


Padawan Rex

by Faeymouse



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rexobi, Slow Burn, ish slow burnish, unlikely Padawan and Master moments hey-o, well not really enemies but they don't like each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 28,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27394300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faeymouse/pseuds/Faeymouse
Summary: A Clone Trooper is discovered to be Force sensitive, so, obviously, the Jedi call upon their resident Unusual Padawan Specialist to train him.Both the Clone and the Unusual Padawan Specialist aren't very happy about this, but that's life.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/CT-7567 | Rex
Comments: 161
Kudos: 227





	1. A Repository for Unusual Padawans

**Author's Note:**

> Back at the end of December 2016 and into January 2017 (how has it been so long already!), I stayed in Seattle with a couple of good friends. While there, we visited a bookstore in the International District called Kinokuniya. (20/10 I recommend going there if you find yourself in Seattle. It's the best). I bought a notebook in Kinokuniya, one with a nice felt cover and the words "Live in the Now" inscribed on the front.
> 
> I saw that and thought "I should write Star Wars fanfic in this."
> 
> There isn't exactly an update schedule, but the fic *is* complete so assume it'll be frequent -- at least every other day or so, or however long it takes me to look over a chapter and make sure I didn't spell too many things wrong.
> 
> Enjoy!

Rex doesn’t find out he’s Force sensitive until something goes horribly wrong.

Not that things never went wrong at the start of the war -- plenty did. This was just the first instance that he’d been faced with something he _wasn’t_ trained for.

It was just a single blaster bolt. He was only able to stop one; the one headed straight for his General while his back was turned. It was easy at the time to assume that Skywalker had been the one to block it. In fact, that’s exactly what Rex had thought.

Then he’d felt Skywalker’s pale blue eyes on him.

Through their helmets, Rex felt the entirety of the 501st’s eyes on him as well. Then he began to hear murmurs through his helmet comm. Confused murmurs.

He’d seen Skywalker’s gaze flick back to the blaster bolt suspended in the air, the frozen energy twitching and buzzing slightly. Rex saw the General move slowly, deliberately, out of its path. Rex felt his hand fall back to his side, and the red beam of energy sliced through the air and burned a black spot into the bulkhead wall just to the left of Skywalker’s head.

~~~

Rex stands in the center of the Jedi Council chamber, and as far as he is aware, he’s the first clone trooper to ever do so. Windows cover the walls of the circular room: one large window at head level with two smaller ones stacked on top of it. They allow for a dazzling view of Coruscant, but all Rex can focus on is how easily an enemy ship could hover a few meters outside and blast them all to bits. It makes his palms sweat just thinking about how exposed they all are.

General Skywalker had been correct in his assumption right before they’d gone inside: he _does_ hate this room.

Rex remains at parade rest as General Skywalker explains to the Council what had occurred on Ildith Prime. He explains bitingly, almost nervously, how Rex had accessed the Force. How he needs to be trained. Skywalker sounds just as anxious as Rex feels while he argues, though Rex can’t see why. If the Jedi don’t want him to become a Jedi, he can just go back to being a regular soldier.

Can’t he?

At some point, the attention of everyone in the room -- hologram or otherwise -- is on Rex.

“Would you please take your helmet off?” General Windu asks, all hard glares and even harder words, despite Rex knowing him to be a kind man and General.

“Yes, sir.” Rex twists his helmet off and holds it against his hip. Multiple pairs of eyes land on his face, and Rex, for lack of a better place to look, focuses on the face directly in front of him.

General Yoda’s wrinkled visage reveals a pair of bright, green eyes that seem to look through his head and into every hidden place within. Rex feels like every part of him is being assessed by that knowing gaze, so he stands a little straighter. After a few moments, Yoda’s cane taps the tiled mosaic on the floor.

“Curious, this is,” the small General muses. “Tested, you will be.”

From there, it’s a whirlwind of activity. Rex is made to lift things with his mind -- which he does, much to his surprise. He’s made to guess hidden things -- which he does, to his shock. And He’s made to have his midichlorian count tested -- which he consents to, with more than a little curiosity.

Finally, some hours later, Rex is back within the Council Chamber proper. Outside the windows, the Coruscanti skyscape has darkened from space black to purple to maroonish-red. General

Yoda’s gaze bores into Rex like a drill once more, careful and scrutinizing.

“It must be something in Jango Fett’s genome,” General Koon says with a scientific air. “Perhaps there will be others like him.”

“Doubtful,” General Ti adds in. “The Kaminoans themselves have said they can’t replicate midichlorians. The Captain here must have a mutation of some sort.”

“What’s to be done?” General Windu demands. “He’s too old to be trained.”

“Physically, perhaps,” replies General Ti. “But, technically, he’s only ten years old. General Skywalker was around the same age when he became a padawan.”

General Windu huffs, his nostrils flaring. “Perhaps he should be sent back to Kamino. A Clone trooper becoming a Jedi could cause unrest.”

“No.” Yoda raps on the floor with his cane, and smiles an almost mischievous smile at Rex.

“Trained, you must be.”

Things go from bad to worse after that.

~~~

His first impression of General Kenobi -- he can’t call him _Master_ Kenobi, he won’t -- is of someone who is very, very tired. Rex can’t believe this mild-mannered man is the same person that trained General Skywalker. Aside from lightsaber color, they have absolutely nothing in common. When Rex is introduced to him, General Kenobi turns eyes the color of the ocean on Kamino toward Rex, gives him one long, unblinking look, and then turns back to Yoda and General Skywalker.

“Why does it have to be me?”

His voice is nothing like Skywalker’s. Where Skywalker is coarse and even vulgar at times, with a clear Outer Rim edge to his words, Kenobi has the soft, cultured lilt of Coruscanti elite. He sounds more like a senator than a Jedi General. Yet beneath it is a clear, scathing sarcasm that is vaguely recognizable in Skywalker.

Rex doesn’t like him.

But he doesn’t say a word at the clear brush-off. He only stands there, like he had in the Jedi Council chamber, in silence, staring off into the middle distance.

“You it must be,” Yoda insists.

Kenobi glowers. _“Why_ must it always be me? Am I condemned to always be a repository for unusual Padawans?”

“Hey,” Skywalker grumbles.

Kenobi gives him the first smile Rex has seen him give since being called into the room. It’s a slight curve of lips, rather nice, but it doesn’t last long.

“Why not have Anakin train him? The Captain here is _his_ Captain, after all.”

Skywalker crosses his arms and looks down at General Yoda. “That’s what I said.”

Yoda makes a point of looking as non-innocent as he possibly can.

“Decided by the Council, it was.”

“I _am_ part of the Council,” Kenobi says.

“Not yet, you are,” replies Yoda. “After this decision, on the Council you will be.”

Kenobi and Skywalker both make annoyed noises in the backs of their throats. Rex doesn’t know much about the inner workings of the Jedi -- the first real battle of the war had been only a few weeks ago, and for all he had been taught on Kamino, Rex still doesn’t quite understand how their system works. Kenobi is a General, but still doesn’t hold power over himself. Rex shifts slightly on his feet, tension radiating from his shoulders down into the rest of his body. He can relate.

Rex doesn’t realize that Kenobi is looking at him until the bearded General clears his throat politely. There’s a strange kind of sympathy in his eyes.

“We seem to be missing the most important part of this discussion. Captain… CT- 7567--”

“Rex,” Skywalker interjects. “His name is Rex, Obi-Wan.”

“Captain,” Kenobi continues, still making a point of keeping a professional military distance between them, “Do you wish me to train you?”

“No, sir,” Rex replies.

Skywalker says nothing. Neither does Yoda. Yet six hours later, Rex is being given an impromptu Padawanship ceremony in the Jedi Temple with a taciturn Kenobi at his side. Neither of them say a word as Kenobi hands him Jedi clothing: a tunic, trousers, a robe. They continue their silence as they get onto a transport with a handful of Jedi Younglings to get Rex’s lightsaber crystal.

Rex stays in his armor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Yoda learned his lesson. The last time he told someone "No" to being trained, the Sith killed his Jedi grandson. He's just being smart. Possibly a bit conniving in a friendly, haha-let's-see-how-this-turns-out-way, but mostly smart.


	2. Just Like a D-17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the nice words, everyone!

The younglings won’t stop staring at him.

“My name is Ahsoka,” one finally says, flashing a spritely smile at Rex. The others introduce themselves as well, and wait eagerly for him to reciprocate.

Rex answers the first girl, Ahsoka. “My name is Rex, ma’am.”

That earns him a chorus of giggles.

“My name is Ahsoka, Rexster, not ma’am,” the girl corrects him. “You’re a Jedi youngling now, just like us. You can use our names.

“Yes, ma’--” Rex catches himself. “Alright, Ahsoka.” And then he pauses again. “Rexster?”

Ahsoka grins at him.

~~~

Rex’s crystal is the same deep azure-blue as his armor markings, and just a little bit bigger than his thumb. It vibrates with unseen energy, and Rex can’t help but show it to General Kenobi as soon as he’s free of the caves of Ilum.

Kenobi gives the crystal a long, subjective look, and Rex contemplates the fact that Kenobi’s eyes are blue as well -- the same blue as Rex’s kyber crystal. Kenobi glances up at him with those crystalline eyes, and the moment of quiet contemplation is suddenly broken.

“It isn’t a lightsaber yet,” Kenobi says simply, and that marks the tail-end extent of his congratulations.

~~~

Ahsoka Tano is a lot like General Skywalker. Mostly in that she’s the first Jedi in some time that Rex actually _likes._

She takes his crystal while he takes her two, turning over the emerald- and chartreuse-green shards carefully in his hands. Ahsoka whistles as she holds up Rex’s crystal to the light. “What kind of lightsaber are you thinking of making?” she asks.

Rex shrugs. “I prefer blasters.”

~~~

Rex could never have guessed how much work was put into building a lightsaber. He’d always assumed that it was like putting together a blaster: parts that were meant to be fitted together by hand. But the lightsaber, when first constructed, must only be done with the Force. It’s the Jedi Way, or so Kenobi tells him after Rex’s third mental attempt leaves a pile of parts in his lap.

“You must concentrate,” Kenobi says.

Rex closes his eyes and focuses the Force between his hands. “I _am_.” He isn’t. “Do you have to be here?”

“Where else should I be, Captain?”

 _Somewhere where you remember a man’s name,_ Rex thinks angrily, but he doesn’t give the words a voice. It wouldn’t help anyone for him to pick a fight with Kenobi.

He closes his eyes again and tries, for what he decides to be, the last kriffing time. The Force settles into his hands and Rex pictures his lightsaber. It has sleek silver metal with a black finish, and rests in his hand just as comfortably as a blaster pistol. _It’s curved_ , his mind supplies. _Just like a DC-17._ The power core goes here, the grip there, and, finally, at its center, the kyber crystal.

Rex opens his eyes when he hears the faint click-rasp of metal fitting together. In the air between his hands is the lightsaber exactly like he had pictured it, perfectly crafted. And when he dismisses the Force and catches it with his left hand, it doesn’t fall apart.

Over his shoulder, Kenobi hums, pulling his fingers through his beard. “Congratulations,” he says with a rare, proud smile. “It seems as though you’ve finally done it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dooku would be proud. Curved lightsabers are apparently lineage genetic.


	3. Qui-Gon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what I call a prelude to pining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to blame anything for my newfound attempts at chapter titles, blame Death Troopers. That was such a good book, I highly recommend it. If you catch me writing in-canon Star Wars zombie apocalypse fic, blame that book, too.
> 
> Anyway, back to the real reason you're here.
> 
> Thanks again for the continued support, everyone! 
> 
> ~Enjoy

Their first mission together as master and padawan lands them in caskets.

Not caskets exactly, but when one wakes up in six-by-two cryopod currently on its way to be sold to the Separatists on the black market, it sure as hell  _ feels _ like a casket.

Rex is rather calm, all things considered. It may be dark and the air may be stale, but it still reminds him of the sleep-tube he had been assigned on Kamino back during Basic training. He doesn’t mind the claustrophobic proximity at all.  Kenobi, on the other hand, is very clearly freaking out.

Rex can feel him in the tube above his as quiet quakes of panic in the Force. It makes Rex’s heart race just to have their bond open, but he keeps it so. He even sends thoughts and emotions along the bond: of Kamino, of his personal feeling of home within the tiny tube.

Slowly, Kenobi relaxes. Slowly, perhaps without meaning to, he allows Rex further in.

That’s how Rex sees Qui-Gon Jinn for the first time.

~~~

_ The man is tall, like a tower. His beard isn’t as full as Kenobi’s, and his cloak is black instead of brown, but something about him echoes ‘Obi-Wan’ like a distant scream. He’s cold, like ice, but there’s a warmth underneath it, deep, deep within. When he smiles, warmth blossoms in Rex’s chest. HIs palms are sweaty, his chest feels hot, when this man says “Obi-Wan.” _

_ Then, just as quickly as the man appears, he’s gone. Kenobi closes back up. Pain circles that memory like a moat around a castle. Rex doesn’t push. _

~~~

As soon as the bounty hunters make the mistake of getting too close with lightsabers dangling on their belts, Rex and Kenobi are able to call their lightsabers forward and cut themselves free of their pods.

Rex has never seen Kenobi move so fast, nor with such ferocity. He’s like a demon wreathed in orange flame with a heart of pale blue.

When the bounty hunters are dispatched and the ship is under their control, Kenobi turns to Rex and smiles at him. It’s a genuine smile, not one of his half-smirks, and it breaks something in Rex. Something that Rex hadn’t realized could be broken.

_ Obi-Wan. _

The way the man in Kenobi’s mind had said his name comes back, and Rex has the sudden urge to say it with as much love. He isn’t sure where that comes from, and he swallows the name down.

“Thank you, Rex,” Kenobi says, and that seals it completely.

_ Oh Force,  _ Rex thinks.  _ I like him. _

_ ~~~ _

Waxer and Boil don’t let him live down the fact he’d been captured on his first real mission for an entire week. Cody goes for a month.

Cody also raises an eyebrow when he hears Rex call Kenobi “Obi-Wan” for the first time, but he doesn’t say a word. He’s a damn good brother.

~~~

Are padawans allowed to lust after their masters?

Rex has no kriffing idea, and he certainly isn’t about to ask someone like Yoda or, Force forbid, Obi-Wan.

(The fact that he regularly calls him ‘Obi-Wan’ instead of ‘Kenobi’ in his head comes as no surprise. Rex had started doing it as soon as Obi-Wan had called him by his own name on their first mission. As soon as he’d figured out that he didn’t hate Obi-Wan; didn’t even  _ just _ like him).

Rex finally decides to ask General Skywalker about it as soon as the 501st and the 212th were put on a campaign together. It’s been too long since he’d last seen Skywalker, or his brothers in the 501st. Skywalker’s hair is longer, the lines beneath his eyes deeper, and he’s even gotten taller.

Rex’s brothers look the same as ever, give or take a few more symbols painted or carved into their armor and new scars aplenty.

They comment on Rex’s clothing, at the Jedi robes half-covered in bits of clone trooper armor and at the braid poking out from under Rex’s left ear. It isn’t very long yet, but the blond mixed with a lock of Obi-Wan's bright auburn causes enough talk to circulate that Rex is convinced he’ll be hearing about it long after the war is over and done.

“Can we see your lightsaber now?”

Hardcase asks that with a wide, starry-eyed grin. He adores weapons of all sorts, especially ones he isn’t allowed to touch.

Rex hands him his lightsaber without a second thought. Hardcase whistles long and low as he turns the hilt over in his hands.

“I didn’t know they made lightsabers with blaster pistol-shaped handles,” he says.

Rex cocks a brow at him just as he spots Skywalker out of the corner of his eye. “They didn’t think they could make a Jedi out of a clone either, yet here I am.”

Skywalker is just sitting down when Rex walks up to him.

“Hello, sir.”

Skywalker grins at him. “Rex,” he says warmly, before he stands up again and catches him in a hug. “How’s my brother padawan doing?”

If anyone besides Skywalker had called him that, Rex would have assumed that they were mocking him. But he knows Skywalker, knows how genuine the man is. Rex is honored to be called 'brother' by someone like his former general.

“Well, sir, nothing unusual to report.”

Skywalker ushers him down into a seat and sits down across from him. “Oh, so you’re used to being a Jedi already?”

“I… yes,” Rex replies sheepishly. “It’s, er--”  _ Strange. Difficult. Terrifying. Like nothing he ever thought he’d be doing during this war _ . “Fun.”

“Fun.” Anakin mouths the word with a soft laugh. “How’s Obi-Wan?”

“In a perpetual bad mood.”

Anakin laughs loudly enough to turn a few heads. “Your jokes are getting better.” he shakes his head, sandy-colored curls flopping around his face. “But something tells me you aren’t just here to make me laugh. What’s up, Rex?”

Rex swallows. “Actually, sir, I’m here to talk to you about Obi-Wan. I--”  _ I’m in love with him and I wanted to ask you if Jedi are allowed to feel that way. We are both adults after all, technically, and I think he may like me, too. He calls me Rex now, and he actually smiles. Do you think I have a chance? _

But instead of all that, Rex finds his mouth forming out different words.

“Who’s Qui-Gon Jinn?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hardcase only caused minimal damage with the lightsaber Rex left in his possession.  
> *He probably would have caused more, but luckily the rest of the 501st is 90% of his impulse control and managed to convince him that he didn't need to "test this thing  
> out" on more than one wall.  
> *Hardcase definitely makes lightsaber sounds with his mouth. Most clones do when given the chance. Rex sure did. It's probably genetic.  
> *Cody so knows. Not even Obi-Wan realizes yet, but Cody. Ha. Cody knows.  
> *Regarding Rex having some of Obi-Wan's hair in his padawan braid: there's no basis for it in canon, I just think it's a cool concept that masters pass down a part of themselves to their padawans via the braids. Whether it's decoration - beads, cloth, hair, etc - it seems like a fun way to connect a lineage together! Totally not canon compliant, but then again who is except canon?


	4. Don't Think About Him Naked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Rex talk about their Grand-Master.
> 
> Rex continues to be the most awkward clone to ever be awkward around his Jedi crush.

Skywalker’s voice doesn’t change, and neither does the look in his eyes. But Rex can sense a sudden weight in the air that hadn’t been there before.

Skywalker leans forward in his seat. “Obi-Wan told you about him?”

“Not exactly.” Rex explains how their first mission had gone, how Rex had used their bond to assuage Obi-Wan’s anxiety during their confinement, and by the time he’s finished, the air around them doesn’t seem quite so heavy anymore. “I was wondering if you could tell me more about him,” Rex finishes.

“Qui-Gon Jinn was Obi-Wan’s master,” Skywalker replies. “You can look him up in most databases.”

Rex  _ had _ , but his research hadn’t given him the answers he’d been looking for. “He died on Naboo with Obi-Wan, didn’t he?”

Skywalker nods, and sadness ripples in the Force around him, soft and distant like an old memory.  Rex moves his elbows onto the table between them and leans closer in. “I did look him up, but I wanted to know what he was like. How did Obi-Wan feel about him?”

Skywalker tilts his head to the side. “Why don’t you ask Obi-Wan about that?”

Rex clears his throat. “Well…” It’s now or never, isn’t it? As soon as Obi-Wan returns from his meeting with the Jedi High Council, Rex will have to leave again. He might not get another chance to talk to Skywalker about this for a long, long time. “Was there ever anything between them? You know, um, like a relationship?”

Skywalker blinks. “Did they ever date?”

“Yeah! Exactly!” Rex’s eyes drift away from Skywalker and up towards the ceiling, following the lines between the deck plating of the ship. “Because Jedi can date each other…?”

A smile pushes up one side of Skywalker’s mouth. 

“I don’t know if they ever dated Rex, but Obi-Wan cared about him. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had. Obi-Wan was older than either of us before he became a knight.”

“So a padawan and his-- uh,  _ their _ master can date, theoretically?” Rex asks, a little too intently.

Both of Skywalker’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I--”

But before Rex can continue, a newer clone trooper makes his way over to them and stands at attention.

“Sir, I have important news from General Kenobi,” he states.

Skywalker keeps his eyes on Rex a moment longer, and then he turns to the trooper. This newer clone is wearing a captain’s pauldron. Rex is a little surprised at the pang of sadness he feels when he sees that. Of course he was going to be replaced, he knew that. But knowing it and seeing it firsthand were two different things.

“Report, Hevy,” Skywalker says.

“Sir,” Hevy continues, “General Kenobi has just received orders that both your battalion and his are to make their way to Christophsis immediately.”

“Thank you.” Skywalker lets out a breath and stands up, stretching his arms above his head.

“Looks like duty calls,” he says.

Rex stands up, too. “I should head back,” he says, but Skywalker stops him from leaving with one hand on his shoulder.

“This discussion isn’t over,” he says, his voice filled with promise, “but I have a couple of things to tell you. One, yes, a master and their padawan can date if they’re both consenting and Coruscant legal age.”

Rex laughs hollowly. “I’m not even technically a  _ person _ according to Coruscant legal law,” he says. “Does that mean it still applies to me?”

Something about the way he says that makes Skywalker squeeze his shoulder, and a shadow passes over the general’s face. “You are a person,” he says without any of the usual levity in his voice. “No matter what that stupid law says.”

Skywalker’s death-grip on his shoulder relaxes a little bit. “And I’m sure you can date Obi-Wan.”

Rex stutters like a faulty hyperdrive. “Sir, I never said… That is-- I didn’t--  _ are you sure?” _

Skywalker grins. “Yes, Rex, I’m sure. It just might take a while to actually convince him to try it out.”

Rex’s face feels like it’s on fire. He looks at his boots and nods.

“You should get going now,” he hears Skywalker say. “But there’s one more thing.”

Rex closes his eyes, embarrassed to find out what else Skywalker could figure out. “What is it?”

Skywalker laughs. “Get your lightsaber back from Hardcase before he takes it into battle with him.”

~~~

Rex stands beside Obi-Wan as their transport sweeps over and around fallen and empty spacescrapers. Christophsis has long since been evacuated of civvies, and all that remains now are Separatist and Republic forces fighting over an empty city. The quiet in the Force is  _ booming. _

“What’s the plan?” Rex asks.

Obi-Wan looks sidelong at him. He’d been characteristically silent since Rex had come back from his meeting with Skywalker, perhaps even more so than usual. Rex can’t help but wonder if Obi-Wan can read him as easily as Skywalker. “When we reach the rendezvous point, we’ll meet up with Anakin and he’ll decide from there where we should go and what we should do.” A distant explosion whips hot air towards them, and Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “Or he’s already started and we’ll have to play it by ear.”

“We both know he’s already started,” Rex says, smiling when Obi-Wan does as well. 

He very nearly jumps out of his robe when a bit of turbulence causes Obi-Wan to bump into him.

_ Don’t think about him naked. Don’t think about him naked. _

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows raise quizzically. “Are you alright, Rex?”

“Mmhm.” He definitely can’t trust his own voice right now.

Obi-Wan sighs and goes back to staring at the passing scenery below them.

“Perhaps Anakin would have been a better master for you.”

Rex frowns at the rapid change in Obi-Wan’s voice. He sounds strangely forlorn.

“Why do you say that?” Rex asks.

Obi-Wan doesn’t meet his eyes. “You seem quite frantic since seeing him. You must miss working with him.”

“A little,” Rex agrees, “but I like training under you.”  _ I like you. _

Obi-Wan smiles, and finally looks at him again. “I realize the decision to become my apprentice didn’t belong to either of us, and that I’ve been less than friendly about it, I apologize for but. But I’ve come to…. enjoy being with you, Rex. You’re a good student, and you will be an outstanding Jedi.”

_ Force, do not kiss him. Do NOT.  _ “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

The silence stretches on and Rex realizes that he’s been staring at Obi-Wan’s face for longer than half a minute. He leans back. “You’re getting better,” he says quickly.

Obi-Wan snorts. “Why thank you.”

“And besides,” Rex continues, “I don’t think General Skywalker is ready for a padawan yet. He’d probably freak out.”

Obi-Wan’s hair whips away from his face and ears as their transport angles down for a landing in the Republic camp.

“He would most definitely freak out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Clones are considered 'war ordnance' by Coruscant officially, mostly because of trade deficit issues when you consider giving glorified cannon fodder the same rights as other people who die in battle. Of course, half the Senate is fighting this and (most) of the Jedi are like "This is bullshit. You're giving droids more human rights than clones." It's fucked up, but it keeps things, I dunno, a little more real. It also makes the fact that Rex was allowed to become a Jedi at all very interesting, since at any time Palpatine could be like "Lol I wonder what happens if I activate his chip."


	5. Skyguy and Snips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dingdingding Ahsoka enters the ring!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for getting this fic to 100 kudos, everybody. Now that's how you improve a Monday.
> 
> Enjoy~

When Ahsoka Tano disembarks from a different transport later that day -- already taller and sporting a silka bead padawan braid and a fully-constructed lightsaber at her hip -- Rex’s first dumbfounded reaction is to say,

“Ahsoka, is that you?”

He can’t help it. One gets used to seeing surprise enemies show up on the battlefield; not surprise friends.

Ahsoka turns to him and, with one hand resting on her hip next to her lightsaber and a petulantly playful expression on her face, asks,

“Have you forgotten me already, Rexster?”

She grins brightly at him, and for that single moment nothing seems out of the ordinary.

Then Skywalker clears his throat.

Both Rex and Ahsoka look over at him. Obi-Wan is standing at his side, looking for all the world like he’s holding back a laugh. Rex has never seen that look before. He  _ likes _ that look.

“Why did the Council send you, young one?” Obi-Wan asks pleasantly when Skywalker fails to form actual words.

Ahsoka points at Skywalker. “I’m his padawan now.”

If Skywalker had been drinking anything at that moment, he definitely would have sputtered half of it out in pure shock.

“What--? I… no. That can’t be--” He looks desperately at Obi-Wan. “Did you know about this?”

“Not a clue,” Obi-Wan says innocently.

Skywalker looks at Rex for confirmation. Rex just shrugs in agreement with Obi-Wan.

With a sigh, Skywalker focuses on Ahsoka.

“I never asked for a padawan,” he says. “I’m sorry, but there’s been a mistake.”

“There hasn’t been a mistake, Master Skywalker,” Ahsoka asserts, and Rex notices the way Skywalker grimaces when she calls him ‘master’, like something just crawled onto his tongue and died. “Master Yoda chose me. I even tested and everything.”

“He can’t do that!”” Anakin snaps.

Obi-Wan clicks his tongue and raises his brow at Rex. “He can.”

Skywalker shakes his head and crosses his arms. “I’m not ready for a padawan,” he says. “A warzone is no place for a youngling.”

Ahsoka crosses her arms as well, tilting her chin up defiantly at Skywalker. “I can defend myself!” she replies.

“Even younglings with  _ lightsabers, _ ” Skywalker mutters, before waving his captain over to their small group. “Hevy, get that transport back here.  _ Someone _ needs to go home..”

Ahsoka glares daggers at Skywalker while he says that. When he’s done and makes to leave, Ahsoka steps in front of him. “I’m not leaving,” she says.

“Yes, you are,” Skywalker says, and tries to get past her. He doesn’t succeed.

“I’m not.”

Anakin scowls. “Are so.”

Ahsoka scowls back. “Am not.”

This goes on while Hevy goes to the side to contact the dropship pilot. Rex catches Obi-Wan’s eyes over Skywalker’s shoulder, and without uttering a word, he knows  _ exactly _ what that look is saying.  _ Children _ , as well as,  _ these two were made for each other. _

Finally, the stalemate is broken by Hevy coming back and tapping Skywalker on the shoulder.

“Uh, sir,” Hevy says. “There’s heavy anti-aircraft fire in the area. The transport can’t come back until we do something about the enemy.”

Ahsoka smirks triumphantly. “Told you so, Skyguy.”

Skywalker fumes, and for the first time to Rex, he doesn’t look at all like the general that always has things under control. He actually looks scared.

“Don’t get snippy with me, Snips.”

~~~

“Was Master Kenobi that bad with you?”

Ahsoka and Rex are huddled behind the frontline tanks, watching the enemy on the other side of the long overpass slowly advancing towards them. The droids have a shield around their units, making it absolutely impossible to fight back, but being solely on the defensive sets Rex on edge.

“Worse,” Rex replies, deflecting a stray blaster shot with his lightsaber. The beam of red light dissolves harmlessly on the shield surrounding the clankers. Rex curses in Mando’a under his breath.

Ahsoka blocks two more shots without looking up.

“How’d you fix it?” she asks.

Rex thinks. In all honesty, the situation had begun to resolve itself. Of course, Rex had accidentally peered beyond Obi-Wan’s mental shields, seen something he probably shouldn’t have, and developed a crush on the man that everyone except Obi-Wan seemed to know about and even  _ support _ , but something tells Rex that explaining all that to Ahsoka will just make things more complicated.

“We waited and we worked together. Things like this take time. General Skywalker is a good man, he’ll see your worth. He just wasn’t expecting you to, well, show up.”

Ahsoka purses her lips. “I think Master Yoda screwed me over a little.”

Rex knows how that feels.

“Just give him a chance, huh?” Rex says.

“How can I give him a chance if he doesn’t even want to give me one?” Ahsoka leans back against the tank, frowning at the ground. “What should I do, Rex?”

Rex’s comm beeps. It’s Cody. Gruff and clipped like he usually was on the battlefield, letting him know in as few words as possible that General Kenobi requires him immediately. 

Rex steps away from the tank, throwing a grenade spinning through the air towards them back at the enemy with a flick of his wrist. “Just be yourself. He’ll warm up to you,” he says as he leaves.

“Yeah, okay,” Ahsoka says to his back. “Good luck with those negotiations.”

“I don’t need luck. I have Obi-Wan.”

Ahsoka tilts her head, eyes squinting. “What?”

Rex coughs. “Huh? Nothing. He’s a good negotiator. I should go. See you later, Ahsoka.” He may have pushed the Force into his steps to walk away a little bit faster, but nobody would ever be able to prove it.


	6. Defective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGG
> 
> (And besides dating this fic, an actual summary: Obi-Wan and Rex have their first real argument)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When it comes to chapters like this, I feel it's prudent to offer a friendly reminder to everyone that this fic does indeed have a happy ending. I just like to make them work for it, s'all.

Rex begins to suspect that Obi-Wan enjoys pushing people’s buttons.  He certainly seems to enjoy acting as a distraction for the enemy general while Ahsoka and Skywalker figure out a way to deactivate the Separatist’s deflector shield generator, mortal danger to his own person be damned, and every other word out of his mouth seems specially made to drive the enemy over the edge of madness.

“We are here to discuss terms for your surrender, Kenobi,” the enemy general repeats for the second time, his voice warbling with frustration. Rex feels the heat from a blaster nozzle against the back of his neck. “ _ Not _ drink tea.”

Obi-Wan only smiles, and holds up his hands placatingly.

“Of course, General, of course. But one shouldn’t have an important discussion without refreshments, don’t you think?”

_ “What do you take this for?” _ The enemy general spits.

“Why, a surrender! But you see--” Obi-Wan rubs at his throat “--It’s terribly difficult to negotiate such things with a parched throat.”

The enemy general bares his lower tusks. “Tea?” he asks with mocking pleasantness.

Instead of responding with “Yes,” Obi-Wan sighs and says. “It’s a refreshment. Has caffeine. I prefer chamomile.” Obi-Wan looks over his shoulder. “What would you like, padawan?”

“The  _ clone _ doesn’t get anything. Do not waste my time!” roars the enemy general, and for a moment, a familiar fire flashes in the blue depths of Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“There’s no need to be rude, my dear General.”

That look makes Rex sweat in places it shouldn’t be possible to sweat.

“I’m fine,” Rex says.

The fire in Obi-Wan’s eyes banks just a bit.

“Very well. Just chamomile for me, please. Hot.”

The enemy general looks at Obi-Wan like he’s a madman, but it’s hard to argue with someone like Obi-Wan Kenobi, even when he’s the defeated one. With a grumble and a jerk of his pan-sized hand, the enemy general sends a clanker off to brew tea.  Rex didn’t even know battle-droids could do something like that. It’s perhaps the strangest thing he’s ever seen.

“General Loathsom,” Obi-Wan begins as soon as a steaming cup in his hands and he’s taken a long, careful sip. “Our forces are at your mercy, but before we figure out terms, I must ask, are we surrendering to the Separatists or the Retail Caucus?”

“The Separatists, of course! Now--”

“Ah.” Obi-Wan sets his cup down with a soft click. “But the Retail Caucus was the one that sent your extra forces. Shouldn’t they receive some manner of credit? I’m sure Count Dooku would understand the necessity of that.”

Loathsom’s jaw quivers. “We are here to discuss your surrender,” he repeats in a deep, rumbling bellow. “Not to decide who gets credit for your capture.”

“Right, right,” Obi-Wan laughs softly and takes another long sip. “Though I suppose credit would go to Slick.”

Rex hopes Obi-Wan can’t sense him tensing up through the Force.

Loathsom narrows his beady eyes. “...Who?”

“Oh, don’t you know him? He was the defective clone that deactivated our artillery and allowed for you to gain such a swift victory.” Obi-Wan swallows his tea with a sigh, eying the Kerkoiden over the rim. “He was feeding information to one of Count Dooku’s minions. You… were aware of that, weren’t you?”

Loathsom huffs. “I have yet to be informed.”

Obi-Wan clicks his tongue. “What a shame. The hero of Christophsis didn’t even know how his victory came to be. Count Dooku shouldn’t be keeping secrets from you.”

Loathsom’s tusks stick farther out over his grey lips. “Call off your troops!”

“Shouldn’t you alert Count Dooku that you’ve apprehended the planet first, or perhaps you’d like to negotiate for Slick. He does count himself among your number, after all--”

Loathsom’s fist slams down into the table, and Obi-Wan narrowly saves his cup of tea from being knocked over.

“ENOUGH! The Count will be informed as soon as  _ you _ surrender properly. Unless you call off your troops right now, I will have no choice but to destroy you!”

“General Loathsom, there’s no need to get angry,” Obi-Wan smiles again, sweeping his hand around the room. “I’m sure we can negotiate like civilized beings. First, we should discuss where you’ll be keeping my troops…”

Rex is completely baffled by Obi-Wan’s skill at evading a point.

~~~

When Rex’s comm beeps with confirmation that Ahsoka and Skywalker have completed their mission, Rex all but kisses it. He isn’t sure how much longer he can stand just standing here.

“Sir,” he says, and Obi-Wan nods.

Within a few moves, they make short work of the droids in the room. Obi-Wan leaps behind General Loathsom, and rests his lightsaber close to the enemy general’s throat.

As reinforcements begin to arrive, Loathsome holds up his giant hands.

“Wait! Wait! Don’t shoot!”

Obi-Wan smiles. This is the most Rex has ever seen the man smile in a single sitting. He must really be enjoying himself. “I believe negotiations have concluded, General.”

~~~

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Rex says.

“You’d be shocked by how many problems can be solved through talking,” Obi-Wan replies as he and Rex walk down the main hall of the Republic compound together. They had just finished putting Loathsom in the brig under heavy guard, and while they had been there, Rex had gotten a glance of Slick in there as well. His traitor brother hadn’t bothered to look at him. “If there’s one thing you learn during your tenure as my apprentice, Rex, let it be that words can be as useful as a lightsaber.”

“They can’t block blaster bolts,” Rex says, and Obi-Wan chuckles at him.

“You were good back there,” Obi-Wan notes.

“Thank you. I…” A question began to claw its way up Rex’s throat, one that Rex hadn’t realized had been bothering him until he’d seen Slick again. As they turn a corner, Rex asks,

“Obi-Wan, why did you call Slick ‘defective’?”

Obi-Wan slows down a little, and clasps his hands behind his back. “It helped with the distraction.”

“Should you really have been telling an enemy general something like that? Besides, just because he made a bad choice doesn’t make him defective.”

Obi-Wan stops completely, and turns cool eyes at Rex. “His bad choice nearly led to all of our deaths,” he states. “As a clone trooper, that makes him defective. As for Loathsom, he’s in our custody now. I doubt he’ll be telling anyone that you and your brothers can have faults like every other being in the galaxy.”

_ Faults. _ Rex’s skin prickles. “You’re acting like he can’t make his own decisions.”

Obi-Wan sighs. “Rex, you know I didn’t mean it like that. Slick has as much autonomy as any of you do.”

“Sure,” Rex says tersely.

“Look.” Obi-Wan holds his hands out in front of him. “Slick betrayed the Republic, correct?”

“Right.”

“And that is something no clone trooper should do, correct?”

“Yeah.”

Obi-Wan scowls at his one-syllable replies. “You and your brothers are living beings, you can make mistakes, but when it comes to something that should be--”

“In our programming?” Rex mutters.

“Yes, in your programming, there can be no doubt that there’s something faulty with Sergeant Slick. He’ll be sent back to Kamino to have it rectified, and that will be that. Like seeing a healer.”

Something about the way Obi-Wan says that hurts Rex deep inside, like shrapnel burying into his flesh. It pulls and tears at him in too many places to count. He can’t place his finger on it at first, but then it dawns on him exactly what it is.

“No, it isn't like going to a healer. He won't come out of there the same man, if he comes out at all. If we’re capable of making our own choices and that should mean we're allowed to live with the consequences, not... not just taken in to have our minds scrubbed like some _droid_ ,” Rex says angrily.

Obi-Wan watches him silently for a moment, then says with deliberate slowness like a parent talking to a child, "A fault in programming is not a fault in the man."

"You're _only_ blaming the programming over the man."

“Very well,” Obi-Wan concedes. “What would you have me say? That we all make mistakes? Then this is how he fixes his, and improves your future brothers as well.”

Rex lets out a bitter, mirthless laugh. "Yeah, can't learn anything unless the Kaminoans splice it into our genome, right?"

Obi-Wan’s mouth snaps shut. He starts to speak again, but stops and turns on his heel. He stalks down the hallway and Rex starts to follow after him. Obi-Wan stops again.

“I suggest you meditate on this, my young padawan,” Obi-Wan says without turning around to look at Rex. “You should not let your emotions run so rampant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *If you caught that Star Trek reference, I salute you


	7. Slick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sergeant Slick and apologies, brought to you by Procrastination™.
> 
> Procrastination™, the human brain's way of getting everything done except what you should be getting done, because what you should be getting done is scary and stressful  
> and it's almost 2am anyway, so who cares anymore? (You do)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exciting announcement! This fic has received fanart for Chapter One, by none other than the immensely talented **[fishfingersandscarves](https://fishfingersandscarves.tumblr.com/post/634645799864877056/i-was-lucky-enough-to-receive-this-lovely-piece-of/)**. Please go shower them with commissions and accolades, they deserve that and more.
> 
> And now, please enjoy~ this chapter

The prompt dismissal vexes Rex, but not half as much as seeing a side of Obi-Wan he doesn’t particularly like does. He thought he’d gotten over _not_ liking him, but apparently there are new things to be discovered every day. _Does he even think of me as a man?_ Rex wonders. _Or just another clone?_

He still does what he was told to do. Good soldiers follow orders, and the same can be said for padawans, too.

Meditating is difficult. Clones are bred and trained from the tube to be in a constant state of action. To sit in a quiet, semi-dark room and contemplate on things… Rex can’t stand it.

After half an hour of getting nowhere, Rex gets up and goes to visit Slick.

Slick has his own cell in the brig, a ways away from the entrance and guarded by three clones at any given time. That last part had been Cody’s idea; a very loud (for Cody) and insistent idea.

Really, though, with his hands in electro-cuffs and a force field for a door, there isn’t much Slick could possibly do in this situation.

When Rex gets to Slick’s cell, he dismisses the guards. Hardcase lets out a sigh of a relief at being called off-duty, while Jesse and Boil linger behind.

“Go on,” Rex says with a wave of his hand. “I’ll be fine.”

They leave, and Rex stands silently, waiting for Slick to look at him.

When Slick finally does, there’s only disdain in his gaze. Disdain and a fair share of go-the-kriff-away.

“Something you want, Commander?” he asks, with as much disrespect as he can muster in the neutral words.

Rex crosses his arms. “I’d like it if you sat up to talk to me, Slick.”

From his bed, Slick shifts, turning over and swinging his feet over the side with a grunt. He remains sitting, and glares at Rex through the orange glow of the force field.

“What do you _want,_ Rex?” he demands. “Because every Jedi and brother here has asked me why already. I’m tired of repeating myself.”

“Why?” Rex asks. “Why did you do it?”

Slick curls his lips down and snorts. “Must be a defect in my programming,” he says sarcastically.

Rex steps closer to the force field, and the short hairs on his face and head stand on end from the electrical currents buzzing off of it.

“I’m serious. _Why?”_

“Are you asking me that as a Jedi or a clone?”

“Both.”

Slick’s gaze hardens a little more. “Because I don’t want to be a slave,” he says simply.

Rex notices the way Slick’s hands tighten into fists in his lap.

“Why do you think you’re a slave?” Rex asks. “None of us are slaves.”

Slick rolls his eyes and stands up, balancing on the balls of his feet a moment before coming to stand on the other side of the force field. He crosses his arms, as much as he can with the manacles, and stands just as still as Rex. Like this, it’s almost like Rex is staring into a warped reflection of himself.

“Did you have a choice in becoming a Jedi?” Slick asks, and when Rex doesn’t respond, he scoffs. “Face it, vod, we’re all slaves. Especially you.” Slick moves closer to the force field, staring Rex in the eyes. “You may dress like them and carry around a lightsaber like them, but what do you think is gonna happen the moment you kriff up, eh? The moment you decide to take hold of your fate and choose something for yourself? It won’t matter if you have the Force or not then, to them you’ll just be a clone. You’ll be deemed defective and decommissioned.” Slick’s lower lip juts and his eyes shine. “Just like me.”

Rex doesn’t move. It almost feels like he’s holding his breath until he speaks again, in a voice low and firm.

“I wouldn’t ever betray the Republic, the Jedi, or my brothers,” he says with the complete confidence of someone who has said that many, many times. “We aren’t the same.”

Slick leans back and smiles at the ceiling.

“Are you gonna tell me I have faulty wiring now, too? In my situation, you would have made the same choice. You might well have to one day. You’ll need to choose between what you’ve been told is right and what you think is right.”

Unbidden, Obi-Wan’s face flashes in Rex’s mind. He blinks, dissipating it.

“The Jedi are our allies, not our enemies.”

Slick unfurls his arms and allows the weight of his cuffs to hold them down by his waist. “Do you think General Kenobi actually thinks of you as anything except a tool? That’s what we are to them. Tools to be used and thrown away, sooner or later.” Slick lifts one hand and grips the wall beside the force field. “Don’t you want better for yourself?” he asks emphatically.

Anger bubbles blue-hot in the back of Rex’s mind, and even in the Force around him. He doesn’t bother to attempt to push it down, but rides its waves until they’ve run their course. 

Slick knows exactly what to say to hurt him. Well, Rex knows exactly what to say to hurt Slick, too.

“I want the brothers you killed brought back.”

Something shifts in assurance behind Slick’s eyes. Slowly, his face begins to relax, inch by inch, muscle by muscle, until it’s an impassive mask. No matter how much of a show that he puts on, it isn’t an easy thing to get your own brothers killed, no matter the reason. Despite it all, Slick still cares.

Rex puts one hand on the wall and leans in as close as he possibly can. “You aren’t defective at all,” Rex whispers fiercely, “but you _are_ an asshole.”

“I’m an asshole that understands his situation, at least,” Slick replies, but the animosity has seeped out of his words. He steps away from the force field and makes his way back to his bunk. He sits at the edge with his hands between his knees, and his gaze locked onto the far wall, away from Rex.

Rex licks his lips and backs away from the force field, too. He doesn’t know why he thought talking to Slick would help, but at least it had proven something. It had proven, beyond a doubt, that his brother wasn’t defective.

It doesn’t feel good to be right, but he _is_ right.

Kenobi can suck it.

Rex winces at himself. _Okay, maybe not the best choice of words,_ he thinks just he imagines how the situation would play out, in lewd detail. _Obi-Wan is still wrong, though._

“Goodbye, Slick.” There isn’t much else to be said to a soon-to-be-decommissioned brother.

Slick holds up one hand. “Bye, Rex. Good luck to you.” And, softer. “Think about what I said.”

Rex leaves without another word.

***

Instead of heading back to his quarters to continue trying to meditate, Rex heads to the control cluster at the center of the compound. When Obi-Wan spots him, the general breaks away from Cody and General Skywalker and makes his way over to Rex.

He doesn’t look angry at all. Rex isn’t sure if he should be wary or relieved about that.

“May I speak to you privately?” Obi-Wan asks, gently cupping Rex’s elbow and leading him back out into the hall.

“Yeah, we can talk,” Rex says belatedly.

Obi-Wan raises one eyebrow at him, but quickly lowers it with an admirable amount of determination.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier,” Obi-Wan says. He actually looks abashed. “It wasn’t right, no matter my intentions.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t,” Rex responds.

Obi-Wan straightens his shoulders. “I appreciate you telling me so. A padawan should be able to be honest with their master, and a master should be open to learning.”

Rex smiles. “So I can be like General Skywalker now, and disagree with you at every turn?”

Obi-Wan smirks back at him. “You already meditate about as well as he does, so I suppose you can try.” He shakes his head with a silent laugh and places a hand on Rex’s shoulder. “Feel free to tell me anything you want, is that clear?”

Inadvertently, it takes every bit of willpower in Rex to not say “I love you” right then and there His vision blurs around the edges, his mouth dries up around the unspoken words, and his ears buzz.

 _I’m still mad at him_ , he thinks. _Utterly irate._

“All clear,” Rex says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * **vod** : brother, friend (Mando'a)


	8. Walking Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex is super stoked to be back on Geonosis, and Obi-Wan has stellar self-preservation skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that one episode of TCW where Rex gets tossed off that tall wall on Geonosis? The poor guy. I love that scene. I couldn't leave it out, so just blame being a newbie Force user or something.
> 
> And, of course, enjoy~

It has been over six months since Rex took his first steps on Geonosis, and the place still kriffing sucks. Aside from the heat and the locals, Ahsoka and Skywalker had  _ way  _ too much fun throwing him off of that wall.

As soon as he lands (if one can call landing flat on one’s face a landing), Rex pushes himself up and rubs dust and grit from his mouth, face, and eyes.

“Just tell me to jump next time!” he sputters.

Ahsoka and Skywalker give him identical grins. Rex shakes his head at them and turns to Hevy.

“Any word from General Kenobi?” 

His replacement shakes his head. “Nothing yet, sir, except that his and General Mundi’s forces have been trapped by enemy forces two klicks north of our location.”

_ In the brunt of the fighting. _

Rex curses under his breath. “We need to hurry,” he says, and the desperation in his voice is a surprise even to him. He usually doesn’t allow the battlefield to get to him, but for the past few hours, he has felt his bond with Obi-Wan strain and dwindle. He can feel pain… fear, buried deep beneath a carbonite-strong will to persevere. But it can’t last.  He has to get to Obi-Wan.

Skywalker steps up beside him, and Rex can tell by the stoop of his shoulders and the tightness between his brows that he’s just as worried about Obi-Wan.

“You heard him, men. Move out!”

Making their way north is simple after that, more or less. It did involve caves and an overabundance of flamethrowers, but when it comes to the slag-heap that is Geonosis, Rex isn’t surprised. They still make good time. When they finally reach the battlefield, it’s a nightmare made real. Artillery fire whistles over their heads, rupturing the ground behind them in fountains of red earth. Blaster bolts light up the smoke-speckled landscape, and native Geonosians buzz in the air and on the ground, their clicking language filling the air with a constant, insect-like buzz. Brothers and Geonosians alike lie dead and twisted in the dirt.

If the Force is kind, Rex will never have to come here again.

At the center of the fighting, hidden behind a slab of burnt durasteel plating, Obi-Wan fends off a score of droids with a wounded Ki-Adi Mundi leaning against the metal with a hand over a wound in his side. Obi-Wan is the only one with his lightsaber out, holding his ground even as blood darkens his light tunics. Rex doesn’t dare send anything across their bond, but a brief spark of recognition lights up in the Force. Obi-Wan is aware of his presence.

A droid fires, hitting Obi-Wan in the shoulder and sending him staggering back.

Rex races forward without thinking, his vision narrowing until Obi-Wan is all he can see, wounded and still fighting, chest heaving beneath his sullied robes. Rex slides his lightsaber cleanly through a droid, blasts another with the blaster in his free hand, and, distantly, he hears Skywalker shouting after him. Rex doesn’t pay enough attention to decipher what it is he says.

Pressing the balls of his feet into the ground and pulling the Force toward him like a hurricane pulling in debris from the sea, Rex launches himself into the air and lands behind one of the droids encircling Obi-Wan. With a flick of his wrist, Rex beheads the droid, and then with another, separates its torso from its legs.

Obi-Wan’s pained face lights up just enough to cause a flutter in Rex’s stomach, and the next thing Rex knows, they’re back-to-back. General Mundi is sheltered behind them as Rex and Obi-Wan move as one, dispatching the surrounding droids with ease.  It isn’t long before they’re done, and even a shorter time yet before Republic forces have won the battlefield. Rex leans away from Obi-Wan and turns, catching the smaller man as he steps forward and stumbles into Rex.

“Am I glad to see you,” Obi-Wan says tiredly against Rex’s shoulder. “What took you so long?”

Rex smiles. “Thought I’d sightsee a little. Geonosis is scenic.”

Obi-Wan chuckles dryly and presses his forehead against Rex’s shoulder. They stay like that, a corner of peace in the battlefield, before Obi-Wan carefully pulls away and makes a show of dusting off his tunic.

“Master Mundi requires a medic,” he says, in a clear, commanding voice. 

Rex takes in the burn marks, scrapes, cuts, patches of blood, and general walking wound that is Obi-Wan Kenobi. “So do you,” he replies.

Obi-Wan waves a hand, winces, and tucks it into the fold of his tunic. “Nonsense. Nothing a bit of tea won’t fix.”

“Master, you’re hurt.”

Obi-Wan gives Rex his signature look -- one eyebrow raised and his lips curled into an almost-smile-- and there is no exhaustion in that steel-blue gaze. “Master Mundi first, Rex. I still have work to do.”

Rex crosses his arms and sighs. “You’re impossible, do you know that?”

“Medic, Padawan. If you please.”

Ahsoka and Skywalker arrive with a medical evac a short time later, and Master Mundi is taken to safety. At that point, Rex is at least able to convince Obi-Wan to let Kix  _ look _ at him. He negotiates for a pair of hypos and stimulants to ease the pain, and Kix gives Rex an apologetic shrug as he walks away.

“He’s called the Negotiator for a reason, vod,” Rex says in answer. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Skywalker whistles low as he surveys the mounds of sliced up droids around them. Rex hadn’t realized how many there had been until after the battle had been won. It’s an astonishing amount, even for a pair of Jedi. Skywalker catches him looking at his mechanical carnage, and smirks.

“You two are terrifying together,” he says to Rex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * **vod:** Basically the Mando'a equivalent of 'sibling'. (many thanks to Silvenlake for the comment with the clarification!) An understatement, but a funny one so it stands (Mando'a)  
> *When Rex was first taught the fundamentals of jar'kai (the technique of dual-wielding two lightsabers), his first reaction was "Sweet, I can use a blaster again" and that's how Rex'kai, the art of fighting with a lightsaber and a blaster at the same time, was born.


	9. The First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan takes Rex to his favorite Coruscant eatery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~

Coruscant at night is not what Rex expects it to be.

Neon holograms light up every dark area, cantinas dot every street corner, people of every race push past and mingle with one another, droids included, and there are so many languages being spoken that it fades into an unintelligible buzz in Rex’s ears. That’s why it takes Obi-Wan a few moments to get his attention.

_ “Rex,” _ Obi-Wan says loudly, and by the tone of his voice, this isn’t the first time that he’s said it. “This way.”

Rex follows Obi-Wan between two buildings into an alley that at first appears barely wide enough for a womp rat, but which they manage to slip through walking in a row. It slowly begins to widen the further they follow it, with Obi-Wan picking his way around trash recyclers and clean-up droids with expert precision, weaving around and over them and taking turns deeper into the maze of alleys until Rex is completely, assuredly lost.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” Rex asks.

“And spoil the surprise? Hardly,” Obi-Wan doesn’t pause as he responds, and suddenly, his auburn hair is limned in blue light as a sign overhead of a dancing Twi’lek with electronically-fluttering lekku flashes to life above them.

“That’s a terrible answer,” Rex says, as they pass beneath the sign and back into the relative darkness of the alleyway. (Nothing is ever truly dark on Coruscant, unless you find yourself in the lowest of the low levels).

“Patience, Padawan. You’ll see when we get there.”

“Hm.” Rex follows without a word after that. He’s beginning to regret this venture. He could be three pints in at 79s right now, but, of course, the moment Obi-Wan had suggested they go somewhere special,  _ alone,  _ Rex had tossed 79s right out the airlock.

After what seems like an eternity, they finally emerge into an open area seemingly at odds with the maze of cluttered buildings and claustrophobic alleyways they’d just been traveling. At the center of the open space is, of all things, a diner.

Obi-Wan visibly relaxes when he sees it. Rex scowls at the rows of parking spaces right next to it.

“We could have just flown here,” Rex mutters.

“Hush,” Obi-Wan says, and pushes open the doors.

Rex’s senses are immediately assaulted by hundreds of different scents, from the cleaner used on the diner’s tiled floor to meat grilling, the sharp snap of droid oil, and a  _ lot _ of things being deep-fried.

He turns to find Obi-Wan with a huge, completely out-of-character smile on his face.

“Dex!”

Rex is sure for a second that the interior of the diner, so at odds with everything Obi-Wan Kenobi is (cultured, somber, uniformly against anything that isn’t tea or stims on the battlefield), had given Obi-Wan a stroke and caused him to mispronounce Rex’s name. But then Rex hears a deep, bellowing voice behind him, “Scuse me!”, followed by two large hands not-so-gently pushing him aside, and then a barrel-bellied Besalisk is wrapping Obi-Wan in a tight, four-armed hug.

“About time you showed up again! It’s good to see this war hasn’t killed you yet!” The Besalisk, apparently named Dex, says.

To Rex’s mounting shock, Obi-Wan is hugging the Besalisk back, and it doesn’t just look like a polite gesture. He  _ genuinely  _ wants to do it. 

Maybe Rex is the one having a stroke.

“I don’t plan on letting it,” Obi-Wan replies with a squeeze of his arms around Dex’s shoulders. “I’m glad to see Food-Health Services hasn’t closed this place down yet.”

“Bah!” Dex chuckles, and releases Obi-Wan. “Well, are you going to sit or what? Or do you need me to help you find a planet again?”   


Obi-Wan gives him an impudent look. “Talk like that, and I’ll never visit you again, you old snake.” He glances over at Rex, who doesn’t have a chance to mutter  _ what-the-kriff-is-going-on  _ before Obi-Wan turns back to Dex. “I’d like to introduce you to someone first. Dex, this is Rex, my Padawan. Rex, this is Dexter Jettster, owner of this fine establishment and a very old and dear friend.”

Dex lumbers around and levels a yellow-eyed stare at Rex. One hand is pulling at the corners of his mustache, another is on his hip, and the last two are busy wiping themselves clean on the grease-shiny apron tied around his thick stomach.

“You look a bit old to be a Padawan,” he finally says. “Obi-Wan isn’t try to pull one over on me, is he?”

Obi-Wan peeks sidelong at him. “Rex is a special case.”

Dex mulls that over, and then winks at Rex, leans back, and offers up a large hand. When Rex takes it, Dex pulls him into a bone-shattering hug.

“Good to meet you, Rex! By the looks of you, you must be that clone Jedi everyone is talking about, eh? Well, if you’re being trained by Obi-Wan, you’re of the good sort, no doubt about that. Speakin’ of.” He turns to look at Obi-Wan, still crushing Rex in a hug. “Where's Ani?”

“Anakin is still on duty… with his  _ own _ Padawan,” Obi-Wan answers with a rise of his eyebrows. Dex sets Rex on his feet and gasps.

“A Padawan already? Stars save me! I still remember him as a little boy eating all my damned food.”

The image of General Skywalker stuffing his face as innocent bystanders stand witness makes a smile crack across Rex’s face.

“Ah, so he can smile!” Dex grins, and ushers them into an empty booth. Rex slides to the end of one salmon-colored, synthleather seat, and Obi-Wan slides in on the other side. Dex stands at the head of the table, and places two laminated menus (not even hologram? This place really is retro) in front of them.

“What’dya want? It’s on the house, of course.”

“I’ll have a Shawda club sandwich. No pickles,” Obi-Wan says immediately.

Dex nods. “Same as ever. Toasted or therm-zapped?”

“Therm-zapped, please.”

Dex leans his massive head towards Rex. “And you?”

Rex looks down at the menu, but he can’t decide on anything. In fact, in all the introduction, his appetite seems to have abandoned him completely.

“I’ll just have some caf,” he says, handing the menu back to Dex.

The Besalisk feigns a hurt look. “Best eatery in CoCo Town, and all you want is caf. That stings.”

“Be nice, Dex,” Obi-Wan says, handing his menu back as well. “Remember when Qui-Gon and I first came here? I did nothing but stare at the table for an hour. Oh, and also, a glass of ardees for me as well, thank you.”

Dex takes the menus, an interesting look on his face.

“Finally mentioning Jinn again, are we?” he says in a quietly amused tone, before ambling off into the kitchen with a friendly shout at the fair-haired girl working behind the counter. 

“Hermione! Jawa Juice and hot mud for table 6.”

The waitress places two glasses in front of them a short-time later. Rex holds his between his hands, letting the warmth sink into his palms.

Obi-Wan nudges his leg with one foot beneath the table. “Uncomfortable?”

Rex shakes his head and takes a sip. He immediately grimaces. No wonder Dex called it ‘mud’.

“Just surprised,” Rex responds, before taking another cautionary sip. When the tastes comes out even worse the second time, he grabs a handful of creamer boxes from the end of the table and pours them all in, defeated. The caf can at least be choked down after that. “Dex seems nice.”

“He is. He helped me find Kamino, you know.”

That perks Rex’s interest. He still can’t quite believe that the Jedi discovering their commissioned clone army had been an accident -- he’d always been taught that the  _ Jedi _ had been the ones who had ordered the creation of him and his brothers. To find out otherwise was… unsettling, to say the least. If not the Jedi, then who? And why? But his questions were never answered, not even by Obi-Wan, and after a while Rex had concluded that they just had no idea, and that it was simply one of those things he was never meant to know.

Stupid thing not to know, though.

“He identified the saberdart that Jango Fett used to kill his accomplice after the botched attempt on Senator Amidala’s life,” Obi-Wan explains. “Without Dex, I doubt this war could ever have been born.”

Obi-Wan takes a sip from his drink after that, and while he does so, Rex dips a finger into the water-trail left behind by his glass and traces random spirals onto the fornica.

“That’s impressive. Was he a bounty hunter once?”

Obi-Wan grins at the thought. “No. A prospector.”

Rex raises an eyebrow at Obi-Wan, unconvinced. A prospector, able to identify a poison dart most often used by bounty hunters? There is definitely more to Dexter Jettster than meets the eye.

Dex returns a few minutes later, his tan-brown skin wet with sweat from the heat of the kitchen. He has a platter balanced on one hand, which he places in front of Obi-Wan with expert swiftness.

“Enjoy!” he says jovially.

Obi-Wan looks over at Rex. “Care to share with me?”

“I--” Rex clears his throat. “Sure, I mean, if _you’re_ sure. Sure.” He brings his glass to his mouth to shut himself up.

Above them, Dex cackles.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, embarrassing his date in my diner! I should kick you out,” Dex says cheerily. “Want dessert?”

Rex chokes on his caf, while Obi-Wan calmly sips at his Jawa Juice. “No, thank you, Dex.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two alone now.”

As soon as the Besalisk is gone, Obi-Wan smiles at Rex.

“Don’t mind him. He likes to tease whenever I mention Qui-Gon.”

Rex nods, doing his best to not appear as utterly out of his depth as he feels. It isn’t so much that Dex had called him Obi-Wan’s date, but more that Obi-Wan hadn’t denied it. It suddenly feels like buzzflies are fluttering in Rex’s stomach.

“What does it matter if you mention Qui-Gon?”

Obi-Wan, whose hands had wrapped around one half of his sandwich, places it back down on the plate with a far-off look in his eye. Unbidden, Rex remembers what he’d seen on their first mission together; what he’d felt when he’d witnessed Qui-Gon Jinn through Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“Things were… complicated,” Obi-Wan finally admits. “I had feelings for my old Master, and Dex is under the impression that I never quite got over them.” Obi-Wan shrugs. “Perhaps he’s right, I couldn’t say. But he’s always told me that the moment I bring another man around him and mention Qui-Gon’s name, that’ll be the moment I’ve started to truly move on.”

“And do you believe that?”

Obi-Wan sighs, and moves to lift his sandwich once more. “Not particularly,” he says, before taking a bite. His face momentarily melts into a look of such euphoria that Rex is convinced that he has to try this thing now.

“...Are things complicated between us?” Rex asks innocently as he places the other half of the sandwich on an extra plate (which Dex had graciously provided without being asked, the sly bastard) and bringing it in front of him. He doesn’t really expect an answer from Obi-Wan, least of all what happens next.

Obi-Wan smiles at him, but it’s different from before. It’s a soft, strange little smile that Rex hasn’t seen him give anyone else, not even Skywalker. Rex wonders if maybe, just maybe, it’s a smile reserved specifically for him.

And then everything kind of clicks into place.

The diner. The two of them. The lack of an argument with Dex.

Oh kriff.

This _ is _ a date.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Obi-Wan says.

  
  


***

Obi-Wan sees him to the barracks after dinner. Rex just doesn’t feel comfortable sleeping in a room alone in the Jedi Temple, without the sound of all of his brothers around him. And, he thinks, some of the more traditional Jedi prefer it as well. Even now, there are those in the Order that don’t see him as one of them, and most likely never will.

Luckily, their opinions aren’t what matter to Rex.

Outside the barracks entrance, Obi-Wan stops, and with a flush quickly creeping up beneath his beard, asks Rex if he can kiss him.

Of course Rex agrees.

The rest of his leave is spent in wide-eyed, undeniable shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hermione is actually one of the names of Dex's waitresses! I kid you not, look up Hermione Bagwa if you don't believe me. (Guess we know what Hermione did between graduating from Hogwarts and becoming MOM. Haha)  
> *Enjoy this friendly Besalisk. We'll be meeting a pretty mean one soon. If you know... **you know.**


	10. Fatigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex is tired. Just. Tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~

They keep their relationship quiet, partly because some people would likely disagree and partly because both of them are naturally private people when it comes to this kind of thing. Although the fact that most of the Clone Army know about it in under a day definitely brought that into question. Damned rumors.

As ‘technically’ Coruscant legal (kriff anything describing him as property of the Republic, devoid of citizenship) there wasn’t anything legally wrong with the two of them dating. Of course, there were those that could argue that a Master and Padawan should never date, imbalance of power and all that, but Rex would argue that he was a Padawan in name alone. He has learned quickly, he has near the same amount of battle experience as Obi-Wan, and, most importantly,  _ he is an adult. _

Surprisingly enough, however, there are next to no repercussions in the first few weeks of their relationship.

“I’m honestly a bit surprised how accepting everyone is of it,” Rex wonders. “I’d say everyone seems a bit  _ too _ accepting of it. It’s weird.”

“It’s because most of us totally called it,” says Ahsoka.

Rex stops talking and stares at her across the small space of the transport. “It was not that obvious.”

“Rex. It was.”

Rex scowls and leans his head back against the cool metal of the wall behind him, closing his eyes. Force, but he’s too tired to argue. Almost tired enough to be more excited to see an actual bed instead of Obi-Wan after a campaign that was supposed to only take a few days stretched into a few  _ weeks.  _ Living in a tent for that long tends to shuffle priorities like that.

Yet the moment their ship lands and they’re allowed to disembark, any fleeting exhaustion quickly expires the moment Rex sees Obi-Wan making his way across the hangar bay. Ahsoka leaves to go find Anakin with a friendly pat on his shoulder and a “You’re drooling, Rex.”

They keep it professional. The rudimentary asking of how things went followed by the rudimentary complaining that the war effort was taking an absolute shit turn followed by comparing who they knew that had died, which was never rudimentary and always left Rex feeling like something had crawled into his stomach and died.

“The death toll is really getting up there, ain’t it?” Rex asks, not particularly wanting an answer. The exhaustion from before comes back with a vengeance, demanding acknowledgement. Obi-Wan only nods, and then his lips curve up into a small smile.

“Would you like to hear some good news now?” he asks.

Rex’s eyelids are difficult to keep open. “Please.”

Obi-Wan turns aside and motions towards the distant exit of the hangar into the rest of the ship. “You don’t mind walking and talking, do you?’

“As long as there’s a bunk at the end of it, I’ll do whatever you want, Master.”

“Is that a proposition?” A pair of red eyebrows raise up at him, but Rex knows exactly what the double meaning of his words are and,  _ kriff _ , he’s too tired to care at the moment. He and Obi-Wan haven’t had sex yet -- enough kisses to take down a planet, and a lot of heavy petting, yes -- but no sex yet. Unfortunately. But Rex sure as hell doesn’t want their first time to be in an undersized bunk on a Destroyer hovering over the atmosphere of a war-torn planet. He can wait.

“No.” Rex says, rubbing at his eyes. Obi-Wan doesn’t look hurt in the least by his response.  _ Of course not,  _ Rex tells himself.  _ You have a bond with him, remember? He can sense your exhaustion. _

They’ve made it halfway across the crowded floor of the hangar, dodging droids and pilots alike repairing and refueling starfighters, when Rex remembers to ask:

“So, what’s the good news?”

Obi-Wan’s answering smile is bright and very, very proud.

“You’re no longer a Padawan, Rex.”

Rex doesn’t stop walking as he turns that thought over in his head.

“I don’t remember taking any Trials,” he finally says.

Obi-Wan shakes his head at him. “It’s a field promotion, same as what Anakin once received.” He gives Rex an expectant look. “Are you excited?”

“I’m tired.”

Obi-Wan’s good mood isn’t deterred by Rex’s worn-out drawl. “We’ll be holding the ceremony in the ship’s transmission room later today. What Council Members can will attend, and I’ll cut off your braid for you.”

Something in his voice sounds off when he says that, like it’s just the tiniest bit forced, but Rex doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he finds his hand moving up to his braid on its own. He rubs the silky links with the pad of his thumb. Despite being happy, and he most definitely is, even if showing it right now is impossible, he also can’t help but be a bit forlorn. He’d grown attached to this braid like he’d grown attached to his trooper armor. Just like he’d grown attached to being both a Jedi and a Clone. Just like he’d grown attached to Obi-Wan.

“What about our bond?” he asks suddenly, a surge of fear vibrating through him without warning. It shivers its way to the ends of his hands and feet, causing his fingers and toes to tingle.

Obi-Wan lays a hand on his arm, just above the elbow.

“We will no longer have a training bond,” he begins, but quickly amends when a look of physical panic flashes across Rex’s eyes. “It won’t be broken. Few bonds once made can be unmade. If anything, it will change. Evolve.”

Rex nods once, allowing himself to calm down. It doesn’t work all that well. He’s exhausted, and every emotion he feels seems to want to boil over. He is a soldier, he was bred to know loss intimately and still be able to function at full capacity, but just the thought of losing Obi-Wan in any sense fills him with an acute, painful, uncharacteristic apprehension.

“All Padawans fear their Knighting as much as they look forward to it,” Obi-Wan tells him carefully, as if reading his thoughts. Which, Rex realizes, is probably exactly what’s happening. He checks the state of his mental shields, and winces.

“Sorry,” he says.

Obi-Wan dispels the apology with a light squeeze of the hand around Rex’s arm before letting go. “You’re tired, remember?” he says.

“Not much of an excuse,” Rex replies.

They get to the end of the hangar bay and step into the over-bright corridor of the ship’s interior. The constant drone of sound from the hangar is immediately replaced by relative silence, broken now and then by the natural noises of any ship: the vibration of engines, the whirr of air filters, the distant echo of voices and footsteps. Still, for all intents and purposes, it’s quiet.

Conversation between them dies down to a comfortable silence as they walk side-by-side towards the opposite side of the ship, where the crew quarters are located. Rex does his absolute best during that time to keep his shields from slipping again. He’d gained a new respect for the Jedi since discovering just how difficult maintaining constant mental defenses can be. It makes him miss the days when all he’d worried about was not getting his body blasted to bits.

They finally come to a stop outside the Jedi quarters, and Obi-Wan leads him inside. The room is slightly more open than the barracks the clones use, with bunks at only one level instead of stacked on top of one another, and the occasional meditation alcove or desk here and there.

Obi-Wan points out his assigned bunk and Rex flops onto it without protest. He doesn’t even care about being subtle, or even taking off his boots and heavier bits of armor. He just wants sleep.

A hand touches his back gingerly, just above one of the few spaces in his armor.

“You’re going to sleep in all of that?” Obi-Wan asks as he rubs small circles into Rex’s skin. Rex relaxes into the touch, and the thin mattress sinks slightly when Obi-Wan perches himself on the edge.

“Never know when you’ll need to fight,” Rex mumbles into the pillow he currently has most of his face pressed into. “Gotta be prepared.”

“Quite…” Obi-Wan continues to touch him softly. “I’ve missed you. Very much.”

Warm light floods Rex’s chest, and he sighs. Kriff, he wishes he wasn’t ready to pass out right now. He really, really,  _ really _ does. “Missed you, too,” he manages.

Rex moves a little and brings an arm beneath the pillow to support his head. 

“How long do I get?”

Obi-Wan’s hand migrates up to his head, where it trails his fingers through military-length blond bristle. Rex doesn’t have the heart to grow it past regulation, despite having the ability to do so as a Jedi. “Two hour cycles,” Obi-Wan answers him. “Then your Knighting, and after that, I’ll be briefing you and the others on our next assignment.”

Rex grunts in confirmation, words now a bit too hard to form with his lips. Two hours. Which means an hour and forty-five minutes if he wants to fit in a sonic shower. He needs it.

Obi-Wan’s stroking quickly lulls Rex into a dreamless sleep. When he blinks awake an hour and forty-five minutes later -- he will forever be thankful for the supernaturally perfect internal clocks of clone troopers -- Obi-Wan is gone, but Rex can still feel the phantom touch of his fingers against his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I happened across [**this**](https://faeymouse.tumblr.com/post/634959836433514496/i-recently-stumbled-across-this-old-piece-i-drew) piece I drew for this fic quite a few years ago -- I wanna say, like 2018? 2017? I thought it might be fun to share, since it gives an idea what I imagine Rex's Jedi Clone armor and his lightsaber would look like. Also, I just like showing off!


	11. False Sense of Security

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padawan Rex is no longer a padawan. Guess it's time to change the name of this fic?

The central transmission room aboard the Destroyer is vacated specifically for Rex’s Knighting by the time he arrives there, something that Rex finds exceedingly unnecessary. Obi-Wan, and by extension those High Council members that could attend, seem to find it necessary though, so Rex decides to hold back on his opinion about it.

Of the eight Councilors, only five are present, including Obi-Wan. Mace Windu and Yoda are there out of necessity as Heads of the Order (former and current); Plo Koon seems to be there only for gossip fodder (Rex can only imagine what the Wolf Pack will say about this later), and, lastly, Shaak Ti is there, most likely because of her role acting liaison between the Jedi and the Kaminoans.

Yoda’s hologram smiles and he bows to Rex when he appears. Rex bows back.

General Windu is the first to speak.

“I assume you know why you’re here, Padawan?” he asks with his usual stern demeanor. Rex has a feeling the General’s proclivity towards always sounding irritated by something or someone has terrified more than one padawan about to go through their Knighting. They can’t all be as lucky as Rex to have a Master like Obi-Wan that tells him when things like this are going to happen ahead of time.

Rex nods. “Yes, Master Windu,” he says, swallowing down the urge to call him ‘General’. After he does, General Windu does a most unusual thing: he smiles.

“Good,” he says. “That saves us time we don’t have. I do hope you don’t mind the abridged version of a Knighting. We really don’t have the ability to perform much else nowadays.”

“With all due respect, Master, I’m a clone that ages at twice the normal rate of humans, and I became a Jedi halfway through what I thought would be an otherwise normal military career. My entire life has basically been abridged.”

The Force immediately swims with mirth as Obi-Wan fights back the urge to laugh. Meanwhile, General Ti is covering her mouth with one hand and looking away, while General Koon downright cackles, his mask turning the laugh into a vibrating wheeze. Even Yoda is smirking, his ears perking up. General Windu’s smile turns into an open-mouthed look of shock. He blinks slowly before he clears his throat and regains his composure.

“Obi-Wan has really rubbed off on you,” he says affably.

“I most certainly wish to,” Obi-Wan agrees, and now it’s Rex’s turn to hold back a laugh.

The ceremony is altogether much more relaxed then Rex could ever have suspected. Yoda and General Windu drawl through the mandatory reading of the Code as Generals Ti and Koon bear witness (apparently, there must always be at least two other Councilors present besides the ones that had to be there. In this case, as Rex’s Master, Obi-Wan didn’t count), and Obi-Wan and Rex stand quietly by. Before Rex can properly process it, he’s facing Obi-Wan with a lightsaber in one hand, and Rex’s braid in the other.

Rex feels no fear as Obi-Wan brings the lightsaber dangerously close to his face. He trusts Obi-Wan completely, and some of that bled through into their bond, because Obi-Wan grins sadly as he brings the blade cleanly through the braid.

There is a momentary flash of heat, as well as a tiny twirl of smoke and the slight smell of burning hair, but aside from that, Rex feels no different. He can't quite figure out why that makes him so sad.

Obi-Wan, with the braid still in his palm, presses his hand to Rex’s cheek, angles his face downwards, and brings his lips against his.

Rex is ninety-nine percent sure he hears General Windu’s heart give out, at the same time as a collective hum of approval comes out from everyone else (even Yoda!) as Obi-Wan continues to kiss him for a few moments longer. Finally, he pulls away, eyes shining an even paler blue than usual thanks to the reflection of the holograms in them.

_ Good job _ , he mouths silently, before they both turn back to the other Jedi.

If General Windu disapproves of what he just saw, he doesn’t show it. In fact, Rex swears he can see a shininess to the Master’s eyes that hadn’t been there before. Then again, it could also be a glitch in the ship’s holographic matrix. It’s easier to go with that than with the idea that he had a hand in making Mace  _ kriffing _ Windu tear up.

“Come a long way, you have,” Yoda pipes up, staring at Rex and Obi-Wan hard enough to make the skin on Rex’s scalp tingle. “Both of you.”

A strange look suddenly falls over the small Master’s face, and his ears droop, ever so slightly.

“Care, you must take. Dangerous as war, love can be.”

Rex sucks on his teeth, and makes a point of looking straight ahead over Yoda’s head -- nowhere near Obi-Wan. 

_ Love. Love. Love.  _ It’s a little soon for love, isn’t it? No, it… He-- kriff.

Yes, alright. Fine. He loves Obi-Wan Kenobi.

But that doesn’t mean he’s ready to say it yet, or that he wants to hear how bad it could end up for them from, as General Skywalker once put it, a miniature green troll with the relationship finesse of a drunk mynock. Rex respects the little master, he does, but he also likes that description. A lot. It’s apt.

“We are always careful, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan says respectfully, betraying no hint that what Yoda had just said had affected him in any way. Rex decides he can risk on quick glance, and looks sidelong at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan  _ looks  _ normal. Back straight; hands clasped loosely behind his back; tension-free in the Force.

_ This man is as tough as carbonite,  _ Rex thinks, and feels himself falling a little more in love. Double kriff.

Rex focuses his attention back on the holograms as General Windu begins to speak again.

“Now that we’re all on the same page, I believe that congratulations are in order.” He tilts his head down at Rex, and that unusual smile is back on his face. “Congratulations, and welcome to your Knighthood, Knight Rex.”

~~~

“You’re a Knight already?!”

If it wasn’t scientifically impossible, Rex is sure Ahsoka’s exclamation would have reverberated through the hull of the ship and straight into space.

“Yeah,” Rex says. He isn’t sure how else to respond.

Ahsoka sighs at him and shakes her head, the beads of her Padawan braids bouncing, but, despite it all, she looks and feels ecstatic through the Force. She must be putting on a show just to mess with him.

Sure enough, Ahsoka relaxes a bit and grins at him. “You deserve it,” she says, truthfully, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “How was it?”

“It was good. Y’know, uh...” Rex scratched at his chin, looking up at the ceiling on purpose. “Obi-Wan kissed me after he cut off my braid.”

Ahsoka squeals. Actually squeals.

“NO! What? Right in front of Master Windu and Yoda?!” 

“Ti and Koon were there, too.”

Ahsoka howls with laughter, and is still doing so when General Skywalker comes into view down the corridor. She waves at him. “Anakin isn’t going to believe this.”

General Skywalker did believe it, after a thorough amount of congratulations and making loud sounds similar to Ahsoka’s. He did seem a little frustrated, however, when it came to credits.

“Credits?” Rex asks, suspiciously.

“I had a bet going with a few of the troops that Obi-Wan would at least wait until after the ceremony,” General Skywalker explains, utterly blasé. “Tell Obi-Wan to be a little more patient next time.”

Rex chuckles despite himself, and nods. “Sure, sir. I’ll get right on that.”

Anakin grins at him, but in the span of a few moments, his mood seems to sober. He has the look of a General again, not a proud friend.

“It’ll have to wait a bit, Rex. Your first assignment as a Knight is with me,” he says, and glances downward. “We have to go planetside.”

The happy mood slowly starts to leach out of the air around them. Planetside? _ Osik. _ You could see the explosions from all the way up here. 

War waits for nothing, unfortunately. Rex straightens up.

“When?”

“Now,” General Skywalker tells him. “Obi-Wan will be briefing us in the hangar bay. He sent me to come and get you, and.” Skywalker takes a deep breath and looks down at Ahsoka. “To tell  _ you  _ that you’re being transferred to a different ship for this campaign.”

Ahsoka crosses her arms and squints up at General Skywalker defiantly. She doesn’t argue, though. She’s long since grown past that.

“I just got here,” she finally declares.

“That’s what I said,” says Skywalker, “but I don’t make the rules, Snips. Don’t worry, we’ll see each other soon.”

Ahsoka mutters something about the war effort being completely karked, but when the three of them reach the end of the corridor where it splits in two directions: the right leading to Hangar Bay Besh, the left to Hangar Bay Aurek, she takes a couple of steps to the right without being told to. Then, she stops and turns around.

“May the Force be with you both,” she says. Skywalker steps forward and rests a hand on her shoulder, before pulling her into a tight hug. “See you soon, Snips.”

“May it be with you, too, kid,” Rex adds on.

Ahsoka pulls away from Skywalker and smiles mischievously at Rex. “Remember, kissing Master Kenobi in front of the enemies won’t make them stop trying to blast you.”

Rex sputters. “I-- you… we’re not even going to be…  _ Shut up _ , kid.” He isn’t going to be anywhere near Obi-Wan in this campaign, and he’s already supremely pissed about it without Ahsoka’s teasing.

Ahsoka sticks her tongue out at him as she starts to walk backwards down the right corridor. “Keep an eye on Anakin don on whatever-the-kriff that planet is below us for me, Knight Rex.”

Rex smiles back cheekily and waves her away with a two-fingered salute. “Umbara. It’s called Umbara, Padawan Tano.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Osik:** Shit. (Mando'a)  
> *If it seems horrendously OOC that half the Jedi Council would coo in delight as Obi-Wan blatantly disregards at least two of the prime tenets of the Order, just assume that this is war and Rex and Obi-Wan are the closest thing they have to a holonet drama to watch and relax. Better than sending Obi-Wan to Turbo Hell and killing Rex with a rusty nail, at least? Sorry, I've been considering writing a Destiel Star Wars AU, and it looks like that's even bleeding into these end notes!


	12. Krell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The campaign on Umbara begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High key, I really like Pong Krell. He has a cool design, TWO double-bladed lightsabers, a great voice actor, and he's a complex villain while also being incredibly easy to hate! He's everything one could ask for in a big bad.
> 
> Enjoy~

General Pong Krell, Rex decides, is as different from Dexter Jettster as one can be without becoming an entirely different species. He is taller, for one, and clearly stronger. No part of him looks wasted. His wiry black hair is tied back in a neat ponytail, and his orange tunics are unusually neat and crisp for someone that has spent so long in the thick of things on the battlefield.

He also seems like he would rather lightsaber himself before saying anything nice about anyone, and Rex assumes that hugs are probably toxic to him.

Rex realizes this is all before Skywalker’s sudden replacement for the duration of the Umbaran campaign so much as utters a word.

Things go from bad to worse to absolute, black-hole-strength suckage once he does.

“Master Krell--” Rex begins as soon as Skywalker’s transport disappears into the cloud cover high above them.

Krell doesn’t so much as look down at Rex when he responds, cutting him off mid-sentence. “You will call me  _ sir _ , CT-7567. Is that clear?” Krell snaps.

Rex presses his lips together and nods, even though Krell can’t see it. Damn habit. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. It seems you do have some semblance of brainpower. What is your rank now? Captain?”

“Jedi Knight, sir.”

Krell’s eyebrows rise up, his yellow eyes widen, and he finally looks down at Rex. “A Knight already?” he croons, unimpressed. “Don’t you find such a title undeserving of someone that only just became a Padawan half a year ago?”

_ So he’s one of  _ **_those_ ** _ Jedi Masters _ . Rex is more than aware that there are plenty in the Jedi Order that don’t agree with him becoming one of them, either because of his physical age or the fact that they don’t view clones as people. Luckily, he hasn’t had to deal with too many. Until now.

“Not at all,” Rex says, and it feels very good to say it. “I earned it.”

Krell bares his fangs in a look that could kill small animals, but -- like most Jedi can -- he reins himself in. His lips close around his teeth, and two hands go behind his back will the other two cross themselves across his chest.

“I see humility is not one of your strong suits. Not unusual, considering who trained you, so I’ll let it slide for now. We have a job to do.”

With that, Krell steps around Rex and heads to the front of the battalion, where he barks orders to begin a march, on the double.

Rex sees red as he obediently follows the orders.

***

Things degrade even faster after that. Umbara was never meant to be a straightforward campaign. They were invading the home planet of a species simply because they wanted to remain neutral, for kriff’s sake. It was never supposed to be easy, but with Krell at the helm of the 501st, it becomes damn near impossible.

During one early skirmish after Skywalker’s departure, half of their battalion is nearly wiped out.

Krell remains behind as Rex leads a frontal assault against a large group of Umbarans with two kriffing IATs. If it hadn’t been for Hevy’s quick thinking in using the trees for Rex’s bottleneck maneuver, none of them would have survived.

Krell rewards this by screaming at Hevy for insubordination, and growling at Rex to “Remember who the Master is here, 7567.”

Fives comes up to him shortly after that with his face set in an angry frown.

“Did you hear how he spoke to Hevy for saving our asses? To you?” he demands. “You’re a Jedi, Rex. Make him stop.”

Rex’s eyes glance down at the the ground, and he hides his hands in the sleeves of his cloak in a way he’d learned from Obi-Wan.

“I’m a Knight and he’s a Master,” Rex says in explanation, though it sounds hollow to him. “I have to what he says. We all do.” Fives’s frown doesn’t lift. Rex sighs. “This can’t last forever,” he tries.

Fives scoffs. “Yeah? Well, neither can we."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***IAT:** Impeding Assault Tank aka that giant centipede crawler tank from the Umbara  
> episodes.  
> *Also, if you're in the mood for something a little more spicey and Obikin-y than this lovely piece of ficcage, I've begun posting a "new" (technically I started it half a decade ago, but who's counting?) fic on here! It's called [**Anathema**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749056/chapters/67922248)


	13. Kriff-daft, Disease-ridden, Son of a Bantha’s Fetid Arse Fucking Hells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Um. Well. Hrm. How to describe this?
> 
> Angry Obi-Wan hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happiest of December starts to you, readers. May the end of this year go by without a hitch.
> 
> Enjoy~

Krell’s finger jabs into Rex’s chest, strong and precise.

“The next time you defy my direct orders, you will be gone. Do you understand, _clone?”_

Rex forces his face to remain impassive, and, just to be safe, he walls off his feelings in the Force. The last person he wants rummaging through his head is Pong Krell.

“In my opinion, sir, your orders were flawed,” Rex says.

Krell’s eyes bug out, and his gullet expands. “You were not asked for your opinion, CT-7567.”

_“Knight_ CT-7567.” Rex corrects him. _Kriff it._ “And just because you didn’t ask for it doesn’t mean it isn’t needed. Your strategy for taking the airfield was flawed, Master Krell.”

Krell is shaking with fury by this point, and Rex can sense a clear urge to ignite lightsabers. He remains still, but ready.

Krell doesn’t make a move, so Rex continues to speak.

“Fives and Hardcase managed to take the base without a single casualty on our side,” Rex continues fervently, hoping that _something_ of what he’s saying is getting through. “Surely you can see the merit in that.”

“Indeed.” Krell agrees, albeit with as much vitriol as someone can put into one word. “Yet I am afraid I continue not to see the merit in you, _Knight_.” Krell turns part way and barks a question to the clones working on the communications relay of the airbase. “Have you made any progress yet?”

Jesse’s head appears above the console. He looks pissed. “None, sir,” he says, and disappears again.

The look on Krell’s face when he turns back to Rex is far happier than it has any right to be. That can’t mean anything good. “It seems your arrival will be a surprise to Master Kenobi, then.”

“Sir?” Rex asks, despite already knowing the answer. His gut clenches in on itself.

Krell’s eyes harden. “Effective immediately, you are transferred out of my battalion and into General Kenobi’s,” he says pleasantly. “Perhaps he can find a use for your rampant insubordination.”

***

Rex doesn’t regret giving Fives and Hardcase the O.K. to take the airbase. He does, however, regret pushing Krell’s buttons. Just a little.

Fives finds and stops him just as he is about to leave the compound.

“Where the hells are you going?” Fives asks, the fear clear beneath his angry words.

“Didn’t you hear? Krell was kind enough to bring me a reunion with my boyfriend early.” The joking tone of his words falls flat on Fives, whose fists clench tightly next to his hips.

“I’m gonna kriffing kill him.”

Rex sighs. “Fives--”

“He’s making you leave _in the middle of a war zone._ He can’t do that!”

“He can and he did,” Rex says. “I don’t like it anymore than you do, but he has the authority to transfer me.”

“I’m going with you,” Fives declares. “You’re not going out there alone.”

“The men need you here,” Rex argues, pushing Fives back when he tries to walk ahead of him out of the gate. “I’ll be fine. I’m a Jedi and a well-trained soldier, even if Krell likes to act like I’m not.”

Rex can’t see Fives’ face through his helmet, but he is sure the look his brother has could melt cortosis. 

“Think of it this way,” continues Rex. “When I get to Obi-Wan, I’ll tell him about Krell. If there’s anyone that can get that frog-faced bastard transferred out of here, it’s Obi-Wan.”

Fives releases a low, hard grunt. “I guess,” he grumbles, “but I still don’t like this. Be careful out there.”

Rex nods, and pulls his hood low over his eyes. His lightsaber is already in his hand. “Be careful in here, Fives.”

***

Any happiness Obi-Wan feels about Rex’s return is horribly overshadowed by how exhausted he obviously is. Even someone with no Force sensitivity could see that. Rex wonders how the hells Obi-Wan is still upright as he’s led into the small room serving as a command center for his former Master. Obi-Wan is leaning over a holotable, arguing with a fritzy hologram of Master Saesee Tiin.

“We still have a few fighters left in the destroyer -- Yes, Master, yes, I understand, but unless that supply ship is destroyed, there’s nothing I can do from here. Right. Right… All right. Thank you. Force be with you.”

The hologram evaporates and Obi-Wan runs a hand over his eyes. He rubs against them with his knuckles, and then pulls his hand through his mussed ginger hair. In the bright twilight of Umbara, it has transformed into a dull purplish-red.

Obi-Wan’s eyes land on Rex, and for a moment he looks extremely confused.

“Before you say it, no. You’re not tired enough to be hallucinating yet,” Rex says. “”I’m actually here.”

Obi-Wan blinks slowly. The bags under his eyes are as black as bruises. “That doesn’t explain _why_ you’re here,” he says slowly, as a he offers Rex a small smile. “Pardon me, I am happy to see you, but what in the kriff-daft, disease-ridden, son of a bantha’s fetid arse fucking hells are you doing here, Rex?”

Rex can’t help but chuckle at that. Obi-Wan’s seventy-two-hours-without-proper-sleep cursing is always entertaining, no matter the situation.

“I pissed Master Krell off, so he sent me here.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows scrunch together, and his look of confused tiredness transmutes into anger.

“He sent you here alone?” he asks, calmly.

“Yes.”

The Force alights with an anger that makes Krell’s look like a faulty light. _“That kriffing arsehole.”_ Obi-Wan snaps, harshly, already inputting coordinates into his holotable that match Krell’s personal comm. “That kriffing, _fucking_ \--”

Rex stops him by putting his hand on Obi-Wan’s arm and pulling him away from the table. Obi-Wan may be running on fumes, but his anger is enough to light up the Force with a searing heat. Maybe his shields are weak, or maybe someone putting Rex in danger really makes Obi-Wan this titanically infuriated. Exhaustion or emotion, it’s still damn terrifying.

“The communications back at the airbase aren’t working,” Rex tells him as Obi-Wan slowly relaxes under his hand. “The Umbarans messed with them before we had a chance to take the control tower.”

Obi-Wan exhales loudly. “Lovely.”

“Yeah, sure is.” Rex swallows before saying the next part. Accusations like this are not made or taken lightly. “There’s something wrong with Master Krell, Obi-Wan.”

“Besides being an unforgivable shite of a person?” Obi-Wan asks sweetly.

“There’s something seriously wrong with him,” Rex says, and the tone of his voice brings him Obi-Wan’s full, serious attention. “When I was with him, he felt of... It… It felt like the Dark Side.”

Obi-Wan mutters a soft curse under his breath, and brings a hand up to stroke his beard. All jokes are gone. He moves out from under Rex’s hand and paces a few feet away from the table. “You’re certain?” he asks.

Rex hesitates, for a fraction of a second, and then nods. “The way he treats the troops and the way he behaves on the battlefield points to it. He allowed his anger to get the best of him on multiple occasions, and he got most of my men killed.” Rex finds his throat closing around the words. Not now. “He acts like we’re droids. Less, even.”

Obi-Wan moves back to the table with a long, low sigh.

“I can’t confer with the Council. If he’s to be taken into custody, it will have to be by us,” he says. “The Umbarans have all intergalactic communication blocked.” A line forms between his eyebrows. “Do you believe he’s a danger to your men, even while they’re safe in the base?”

“Yes,” Rex says, and means it.

Obi-Wan leans his hip against the holotable and momentarily reaches over to wrap his hand in Rex’s. If any of the other clones around the control room notice, they don’t say a word.

“I wish Anakin had never left. Then we never would have had to deal with Krell, and your brothers would still be alive,” he says.

Rex squeezes Obi-Wan’s hand in silent agreement. Obi-Wan closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, there is a firm resolve in their blue-grey depths.

“It’s time I had a chat with Master Krell.”


	14. Ay, there's the Mind Rub!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realization hits like a large box of carbonite. Krell's douchery level grows three meters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~

Obi-Wan doesn’t have many men to spare, but he manages to scrounge together a contingent of clone troopers headed by Waxer, who smiles and offers a quick salute when he sees Rex. The small blue-twi’lek drawn onto his helmet makes Rex relax. Numa had become a sort of mascot for the 212th since Ryloth, her smiling face able to make any situation feel a little less dire, and Waxer had taken to drawing little caricatures of her wherever he could. He isn’t half bad at it, either.

“Back with us already!” Waxer asks with a playful nudge. “That didn’t take long, sir.”

Rex smiles at him. “What can I say? I missed you boys.”

Obi-Wan leaves Cody in charge of overseeing the front while he’s away. Cody is less than happy about that, but after a long look from Obi-Wan, he relents.

“Don’t worry about the front line, sir. We’ll hold it. Just be careful.” Cody directs that last bit at all of them, particularly Obi-Wan and Rex.

Rex expects Obi-Wan to give him some kind of sarcastic quip in return, but he only nods, all business, and says,

‘We won’t be long.”

Rex swallows as Obi-Wan walks past him. His former Master must really,  _ really _ be pissed.

It’s kind of hot.

The journey from the capital to the air base takes longer than it did to go the other way around. Enemies ambush them behind nearly every bend and tree, waiting to attack and fighting with an even fiercer viciousness than they had for the past few days.

“They know they’re losing,” Obi-Wan comments grimly at one point. “We should expect them to try things we won’t be expecting. Stay on guard!”

Once they’re halfway there, and can even see the tower of the air base in the distance above the leafless trees, Waxer’s comm beeps.

He checks it and then looks over at Obi-Wan, confusion clear on his face.

“Is it Cody?” Obi-Wan asks.

Waxer shakes his head, and checks the frequency number again.

“It’s General Krell, sir.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widen and he turns his head towards Rex. Rex can only shake his head in equal confusion.

“Communications were completely down when I was there,” he says, his skin crawling with the sudden sense that something is very wrong. “There’s no way they could have fixed it yet. The thing was completely fried.”

Obi-Wan brings a hand to his chin and strokes his beard, his brows coming together in deep thought.

“Who was the first person to attempt communication?”

“It was Master Krell,” Rex responds.

Obi-Wan’s brows push together even more. 

“And did he remain in the comm tower while repairs were being made?” he asks.

“He did, but I don’t--” Something clicks in Rex’s head, and he snaps his mouth shut mid-sentence. “There was never anything wrong with the comms,” he says, his voice low and hoarse. A tension headache is beginning to form between his eyes the more he thinks about it, but he  _ knows  _ what he’s saying is true.

Obi-Wan nods his head, a deep concern in his eyes. Rex feels the faintest brush of the Force along their old bond. “Rex, you should not have a headache right now.”

As if in response, the headache behind Rex’s eyes seems to squeeze. Rex brings his hand to his temple, and focuses inward past the pain. Walls he hadn’t realized were there in his mind crumble beneath his mental touch as he moves deeper and deeper. They’re constructs, but not of his design. Strong at first, but not built to last. Rex finds more as he replays the last few days in his mind.

Why had it taken him so long to sense the darkness within Krell? Why had it taken his O.K. for Fives and Hardcase to go against orders when they’d made plenty of decisions for themselves under Skywalker? How had Krell known what they did before asking Rex? Why hadn’t the comms been working, when the Umbarans had no chance to sabotage the system before the 501st’s siege?

How had Krell known his designation number without ever asking?

  
Rex pulls his hand away, and a thin sheen of sweat lies on his skin from the effort it had taken to go back and fix his memories.

“He was reading our minds,” he says, his breath coming in short gasps. “He’s been mind rubbing me and my men for days.”

The look of concern on Obi-Wan’s face has morphed into one of anger once again, even stronger than the look he’d had back at the capital. Rex catches the faintest wave of rage from him before Obi-Wan shields his feelings from the Force, but it’s enough to make the hair on Rex’s arms stand on end.

Waxer’s comm beeps again.

Obi-Wan looks from Rex to Waxer.

“Answer it,” he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Mind Rub is a Force technique which allows for one to alter or completely erase the memories of another. It's super fun; great at parties, awesome for angst.  
> *The title is in reference to one of the soliloquys (Hamlet's broody talking-to-himself moments) from Shakespeare's Hamlet. Specifically, his infamous "To Be, or Not To Be" soliloquy. Fun fact, I can recite every Hamlet soliloquy by heart, because back when I had to read it in high school I got /really/ into it. You'd think because it's a classic and has many wonderful iterations across multiple media. Really it was because I thought Hamlet and Horatio made a really good ship.


	15. He's--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krell continues being... well... Krell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~ 
> 
> And thanks for helping get this fic to 100 comments! It's a silly thing, but I do really love those big whole numbers.

Krell’s voice is smooth and self-assured, and sounds close enough that a shiver travels its way down Rex’s spine.

“This is General Pong Krell broadcasting from Umbaran Air Field A-19. Would General Kenobi’s scouting party please respond?”

Waxer gives Obi-Wan and Rex a wondering look. Obi-Wan touches a finger to his lips and nods sharply.

“This is CT-7924-3, commander of the scouting platoon,” Waxer responds. For a moment, the only answer is dead static, but then Krell’s deep baritone fills it once more. It isn’t terrifying in the usual sense; it’s terrifying in that he sounds completely genuine.

“It’s a good thing I was finally able to make contact with you, Commander. I’m afraid I have unsavory news to report.”

Rex swallows dryly, worry creeping up into the forefront of his thoughts. Someone is dead,  _ everyone _ is dead. While Rex ran off like a coward, his brothers were massacred. Left to rot beneath a sunless sky, left to--

A tendril of the Force brushes along Rex’s mind, soothing and soft. Rex exhales and allows himself to fall into it, letting it carry him to a place of relative peace. Luckily, it works. Rex smiles his thanks at Obi-Wan, and turns his attention back to Waxer.

“What news would that be, sir?” Waxer asks.

Krell sighs over the commlink. “I’ve recently received reports from General Kenobi that the Umbarans have been taking the armor off of your dead brothers and wearing it to throw off our troopers. As I’ve told my men, I suggest you fire on sight if you happen across any of them. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir, but-” Waxer starts, but Krell interrupts him.

“Oh, and CT-7924-3?”

“Yes, sir?”   


Krell’s voice crackles with static, giving the imposing rumble an even darker edge.

“Give CT-7567 my regards as well.”

The link clicks off after that, but none of them say a word. Then Rex is moving, feeling along every part of his clothing until he finds it: pressed into a corner of his shoulder armor that he normally never checks is a tiny tracking device. Rex tears it off and smashes it in his fist.

“That bastard,” Rex snarls, his hand shaking around the shattered bits of the tracker. “He knows we’re coming now, because of  _ me. _ ” 

Obi-Wan places a hand on Rex’s arm, squeezing until Rex finally releases his death-grip on the broken tracker.

“Things are not all lost yet,” Obi-Wan assures him. “Did you notice he never mentioned me?”   
  
“He mentioned you with those reports,” Rex snaps back, followed by a quick, “Sorry.”

Obi-Wan nods his head in understanding. “I never sent such reports, which means he believes that you aren’t in contact with me. He has no idea that I’m here.”

Rex exhales sharply. “He doesn’t know that you’re with us,” he repeats lamely, “but… how did he know that I’m with a scouting party?”

“He probably didn’t, sir,” Waxer adds in. He shrugs one shoulder when Rex and Obi-Wan both turn to face him. “He knows that if General Kenobi sent you back, it wouldn’t be alone. He knows the General cares about you.”

“You’re right, Waxer,” Obi-Wan agrees, his hand coming up to rest in its usual place in his beard. “He may know that you and your brothers are coming, Rex, but we have the element of surprise on our side when it comes to me.” His head perks up, and he pushes himself up from the ground where they’d been crouching. Waxer follows quickly beside him. “We should get moving. If he knows that anyone is coming, there is little doubt that he has some preparations already in place.”

“We need to be careful, sir. He mentioned Umbarans dressed as clones,” Waxer says.

Something nudges at the back of Rex’s mind. A warning, danger reverberating through the unending net of the Force. Rex stands slowly, senses straining and his lightsaber already in his hand.

_ Krell would have a failsafe, but what would it be? Why would he lie about Obi-Wan giving him reports on the Umbarans? What’s the point? _

“Rex?” Obi-Wan lightsaber is in his hands and ignited as well, a pale blue light in the dark landscape. The other brothers around them begin to rise to their feet as well, situating themselves to create a tiny perimeter with Rex, Waxer, and Obi-Wan at its center.

“I sense a disturbance in the Force,” Rex explains. “Why would Krell lie about the Umbarans? It doesn’t make any tactical sense.”

“Maybe he wants to disorient us,” Waxer tries, hefting up his blaster to eye level.

“Or maybe the Umbarans aren’t stealing our armor at all.” 

The warning in Rex’s mind, a subtle throb before it suddenly feels like someone took a beamdrill to the inside of his skull.

“He’s--” A shout, close but too far to see the source of, interrupts him.

“He’s--” The shrieking sound of a blaster bolt, before a knee-jerk reaction causes Rex to throw himself into Waxer and Obi-Wan, knocking them all into a heap on the ground.

“He’s--” _ As I told my men, I suggest you fire on sight if you happen to see any of them. _

“He’s--” The stench of freshly fired blasters fills the air around them, cloying and heavy.

_ “He’s sending the 501st after us!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *You're probably wondering where I got Waxer's clone designation? Truth be told, I made it up. I swear it has an actual meaning (you'll just never figure it out,  
> hahaha). I'll give you a hint, though. Math.


	16. Friendly Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first rule of friendly fire on the battlefield: don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally I would wait a day or so before posting another chapter, but I reached 700 followers over on my [Tumblr](https://faeymouse.tumblr.com/) today and wanted to celebrate somehow.
> 
> So enjoy~

Rex tastes blood and dirt in his mouth. The screech-hiss of blasters firing fills his ears, deafening, and when he opens his eyes, he finds himself looking into the light brown of one of Waxer's. Part of his helmet's visor glass had cracked and fallen away from the blow it had taken when Rex had pushed him out of the line of fire.

“You good?” Rex asks.

“‘bout as good as I can be while we’re being shot at,” Waxer responds, scrambling out from beneath him. Rex lets out a sigh of relief. His brother is fine.

Rex turns his attention to Obi-Wan next, ready to ask the same question, but Obi-Wan is already on his feet, ignited lightsaber back in his hand.

“I’m fine,” he says to the unspoken question. “We had best find out who in the hells is shooting at us.”

“It’s--” Rex’s words are cut short by another round of blaster fire. He bites his lip and stays stooped down as he gets to his feet. It’s the 501st. It’s his brothers! Rage unlike any he’d felt before boils up in him as he thinks about Krell. He isn’t a Jedi; he’s a monster.

Two brothers lay dead a little ways away from them, blasterbolt holes still smoking in their chestplates. Rex murmurs a quiet apology to them, ignites his own lightsaber once more, and followers after Waxer and Obi-Wan as they run over the crest of a nearby hill towards the enemy.

The brothers that had survived the initial attack are holding their own behind a half-fallen tree. Across the small valley and onto another hill, Rex can only make out their attackers by the bright bursts of light from their fired blasters.

He recognizes the organization of the positions immediately. _He’d_ thought up that damn formation.

“Hold your fire!” Rex shouts, and his brothers behind the tree lift their fingers away from the trigger. A confused Waxer does as well, and Obi-Wan pauses, looking at Rex curiously.

“Trust me,” Rex says to them, and then he does something very dangerous and very stupid.

Or, as he likes to think, very _Skywalker._

He climbs over the half-fallen tree and into the middle of the battlefield.

Shouts filter into existence behind him, but Rex continues to move forward with his lightsaber held high above his head like a beacon in the darkness.

“Hold your fire!” he shouts again, projecting his voice towards the hidden enemies. “We’re clones! It’s Rex!”

A stray blasterbolt flies toward him from the darkness, but Rex blocks it with a swing of his lightsaber.

“What the fuck!” he shouts, annoyed. “I’m a fucking friendly! Whoever did that, you have the trigger-discipline of a kriffing drunk mynock!”

No more blasterbolts fly toward him after that. A few moments into the silently agreed-upon ceasefire, a voice, nearly identical to his, shouts back from the darkness.

“Rex, what the hells are you doing with the enemy?”

Rex bites his tongue to keep from yelling back a few choice expletives.

“None of us is an enemy, Fives. Only brothers here!” And Obi-Wan.

Finally, from the darkness materializes a familiar set of armor geared out in ARC-trooper kit. More brothers appear behind Fives, and all of them have their weapons lowered to the ground.

As soon as they’re close enough, Fives pulls Rex into a tight, one-armed hug. His other hand is still holding his blaster.

“You’re a kriffing dumbass,” Fives says, his voice thick with emotion even through his helmet comm. Then, “We were told that the Umbarans have been stealing armor from our dead. We saw familiar helmets, and we… Kriff.”

Rex hugs Fives back, until his brother pulls away. He doesn’t offer a reassuring smile, doesn’t say it’s all right. Brothers are dead. It isn’t all right.

“It was a setup orchestrated by General Krell, “ A familiar voice says behind him. “He wanted you to kill us.”

Rex looks over his shoulder as Obi-Wan approaches with Waxer and the other troopers at his sides. Waxer has helmet off, and is staring forlornly at the blaster burn marring his drawing of Numa. Obi-Wan comes to a stop beside Rex, his brows pushed together. The frown between his eyebrows seems to be becoming permanent.

“He wanted us to kill our own brothers?” Fives asks, disgusted. _“Why?”_

“Not just any brother,” Obi-Wan says with a lift of his chin at Rex. “He was hoping you would accidentally kill the commander. Although I imagine that if things had turned out differently, he wouldn’t have minded if Rex killed all of you.”

“It’s the Dark Side,” Rex says in explanation. “General Krell has turned against us, the Order, and the Republic.”

Fives bobs his head up and down, his blaster shaking in his grip.

“Fuck _fuck fuck_ **_fuck_** ,” he keeps muttering.

Rex sees movement in his periphery as Waxer walks around him and Obi-Wan and bumps his fist against Fives’s chest. He has a relaxed look on his face, and it’s obvious he’s trying to calm his brother down. Rex will never understand how someone so kind can be so dangerous a soldier.

“Easy, vod,” Waxer says softly. “Things could have gone a helluva lot worse.”

“Our General is a sadistic, clone-killing, traitorous bastard,” Fives replies tartly. “Brothers are dead, and we’re in the middle of a dangerous battlefield firing at each other. Doesn’t seem like it could get much worse.”

Waxer smiles broadly at his brother.

“Well, at least you didn’t kill me!” he says with a tap on his helmet. “Though you ruined my helmet. How dare you.”

Fives reaches up and pushes at Waxer’s arm. “That’s not _funny,_ Waxer,” he replies, but the tension is easing from his posture and his blaster is no longer shaking. “You can scribble on a new helmet.”

“You call it a scribble, I call it art.” Waxer laughs, and Fives laughs a little along with him. It slowly peters off, until he finally asks in a hoarse whisper, “How many dead?”

“Two,” Waxer replies, the laughter gone from his voice. “Creeper and Zip.”

Fives nods, his words heavy. “We’ll take them back with us.”

Rex already knows where this is going, but he still crosses his arms.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asks. “Krell is dangerous.”

“So am I.”

Rex sighs. “Could be potential treason if you accidently hit him with your blaster.”

“We have a Jedi Knight and a member of the Jedi High Council here,” responds Fives. “This couldn’t be more sanctioned if the Supreme Chancellor himself came to arrest Krell.”

“He’s right,” Obi-Wan says, ending with a smirk. “Though we can’t kill him. Krell must stand trial.”

Fives huffs out a frustrated breath. “As long as he gets what he deserves, I don’t kriffing care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Yes, I will joke about TCW canon killing one of my favorite clones in a fic where he survives. It is my sanctioned right as a fanfic writer.  
> *RIP that Numa drawing especially


	17. Judge, Jedi, and Executioner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all has to end somewhere, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~

The airfield communications tower rises above them like a light-lined mountain, imposing and bright. At the uppermost level, Rex can just barely make out the form of Krell standing behind the thick glass, all four arms behind his back.

Obi-Wan breaks off from them just as they are about to walk through the gate leading to the tarmac. 

“I shall meet you at the top of the tower,” he says. “Do try not to be rash until I get there, love.”

Rex smiles at him cheekily. “I’ll let you read all his rights to him. Promise. Stay safe.”

Obi-Wan smiles back at him before stepping away and disappearing into the shadows surrounding the compound, cloaking himself with the Force until not even Rex can sense him.

Rex turns to his brothers. The 501st and 212th members have integrated with one another already, and to anyone looking at them from the outside they would have seemed like part of the same unit instead of members from different groups. Four of them are carrying the bodies of Creeper and Zip.

Inhaling through his nose and out through his mouth once, Rex leads them through.

The brothers scattered around the tarmac stop where they are to stare at Rex and the others as they pass by. Slowly, the 501st begins to conglomerate around Rex as he makes his way towards the comm tower.

The first one to speak to him is Dogma, a younger clone with a severe inability to bend the rules, even when it’s necessary. It’s obvious simply by the pitch of his voice that he knows something is wrong, although the worried look in his eyes helps show it as well.

“Sir!” he says with a salute. “You’re back already? Is everything alright?”

“No,” Rex says, walking around him. “Gather the troops. I’m here to arrest General Krell. And get your helmet on, trooper.”

Dogma blanches. It’s clear by the look on his face that he’s troubled about Krell, but his nature keeps him from voicing his misgivings to a superior officer. Almost, at least.

“Has he… has he done something wrong, sir?”

Rex actually stops in his tracks and turns to stare at Dogma. Part of him wants to take his younger brother by the shoulders and shake him.  _ Has he done anything wrong? Of course he has! It’s obvious!  _ Hasn’t Dogma seen how he’s acted, how he’s thrown away clones’ lives, betrayed the Republic and the men forced to serve under him? But a different part, a wiser part, knows that he can’t blame Dogma for the way he thinks. It’s just how he -- how  _ all  _ of them -- had been trained: don’t question the Jedi.

Rex is lucky to have outgrown it.

“He’s committed treason in the eyes of the Jedi Order and the Republic. I’m here to act as proxy for the will of the Order, and detain him.”

Dogma’s eyes widen just a bit, and he opens his mouth before clamping it shut without a word and saluting again.

“Sir, yes, sir!” he says, a little too loudly. “What would you have me do?”

“Secure the perimeter,” Rex says with a sweep of his hand around the entire compound. “He could try to run.”

Krell running might just be the best scenario in this situation, short of him willingly complying to detainment. As Rex and the others make their way into the tower (after finding a place for the bodies of Creeper and Zip) and onto the turbolift that will take them to the top floor, Rex wonders how long he can keep Krell busy if he’s forced into a duel. Not long, that’s for sure. He hopes Obi-Wan has a plan.

The turbolift comes to a stop at the final level of the comm tower, and as it does Rex turns to Fives.

“Get ready to surround him,” he says carefully, and Fives nods in confirmation. His finger is already hovering near the trigger of his blaster, twitching in anticipation.

Krell is standing in the center of the room when the turbolift doors open, facing the panoramic viewport. His hands are still behind his back, but Rex can see how close they are to the lightsaber hilts at his hips. Krell’s fingers drum restlessly on his wide wrists.

“CT-7567, back so soon?” Krell intones in a bored tone without turning around. “Is something amiss?”

Rex steps forward as his brothers surround Krell and level their blasters at him. Rex spares a quick glance around the room and reaches out in the Force, but he neither sees nor senses Obi-Wan. Damn it.

“Master Pong Krell, you are hereby under arrest by order of the Jedi High Council. I suggest you comply immediately.”

Krell doesn’t move, but his fingers stop drumming against his wrists.

“And what exactly am I being charged with?” he asks, with his back still to Rex.

Rex’s hand tenses around his lightsaber hilt. “Falling to the Dark Side, unnecessary endangerment of the men under your command, and attempted murder of a Jedi Knight.”

Krell laughs then, deep and loud, and finally turns to face Rex. His eyes are so yellow that they seem to glow with an internal light all their own. HIs lips are stretched down in a vile frown.

“So you don’t even know about the plotted treason, then.” Krell moves one foot back into a fighting stance, and ignites both of his lightsabers at once, ribbons of blue and green light spinning around him as he moves the hilts from hand to hand. “Typical of a clone to fall short.”

Rex holds his lightsaber steady. Where the hells is Obi-Wan? “This is your last chance to come with us willingly.”

Krell’s face is underlit by the blue-green light of his lightsabers. He smiles, a demon with a red-gold gaze. In the blink of an eye, his lightsabers are coming down in wide arcs, slashing through two of Rex’s brothers.

Krell cackles. “Weakness! That’s all there is here.  _ Weakness!” _

He turns on his heel to slash through another, but before he can he finds himself caught in a blade-lock with a single-beam blue lightsaber.

Krell pulls away, and snarls out, “Master Kenobi!”

_ About kriffing time,  _ Rex thinks along their bond. It opens back up slowly, like a flower unfurling.

_ You try scaling a fifty foot tower and show me how long it takes, _ Obi-Wan responds in kind. He smiles grimly at Krell. “The one and only.”

Krell’s chest moves up and down with heavy breaths as his eyes flit around the room. He takes a step back, and Obi-Wan follows, his lightsaber held out in front of him. Rex doesn’t need to be told to flank Krell as Obi-Wan distracts him.

"Would you mind enlightening me on what’s going on here, Master Krell?” Obi-Wan asks as Rex moves into position.

Krell digs his sharp teeth into his bottom lip, anxiety filling the Force around him. His green lightsaber is held out in front of him as well, and Obi-Wan taps the tips of his against it, the sharp zapping sound causing the skin around one of Krell’s eyes to twitch.

“I asked you to tell me what’s going on here,” Obi-Wan repeats calmly.

“These clones are defective,” Krell growls, baring his teeth at Rex and the other clones still surrounding him. “They tried to kill me.”

“That,” Obi-Wan says as Rex settles into place behind Krell. “Is a terrible lie, Master Krell. Do yourself a favor, and allow us to take you into custody.”

Krell’s shoulders tense, and he straightens up to his full, gargantuan height.

“So,” he says darkly. “You’re with them. I should have known.”

Krell’s lightsabers whirl in his hands, one moving towards Rex and the other towards Obi-Wan. Both Rex and Obi-Wan block the move with their own lightsabers. The sheer strength Krell puts into his attack forces Rex to grip his hilt with both hands, the metal grinding into his palms.

“I should have known!” Krell snarls again, bringing one lightsaber back to slash at Obi-Wan’s head. Obi-Wan dodges the blades, but not the hand that grips him by the tunic and throws him at the viewport. The glass behind Obi-Wan splinters and cracks, but doesn’t shatter as he uses both the momentum of the move and the Force to propel himself back at Krell.

Krell pulls the lightsaber he had been using to hold Rex in place away, and swings at Obi-Wan with both of his own. Obi-Wan catches them in a blade-lock where Krell’s two meet with his, and sparks light up the air around them.

“The Dark Side has clouded your judgement!” declares Obi-Wan.

“On the contrary,” Krell sneers, turning on his heel to block a rear assault from Rex while still holding Obi-Wan back. “I have never seen more clearly. It is the Jedi that will lose this war! It is the Jedi that are blind to the darkness right before them! I have foreseen the end of the Jedi, the destruction of the Republic, and the rise of an Empire.”

With that last word, Krell launches himself upwards, somersaulting in the air before landing beside the cracked viewport with his lightsabers brandished. He grins.

“I will not lose this fight.”

Obi-Wan and Rex don’t need to look at each other, don’t need to say a word as they raise their hands at the same time and together send a wave of the Force crashing into Krell. The large Jedi Master is taken by surprise, and that allows him to be hurled back. The glass gives away beneath his bulk, and with a yell and a sharp tinkling rain of glass, Krell falls backwards out of the tower and down to the tarmac floors below.

Obi-Wan heads to the open viewport without pause.

“Follow him!” He shouts, and jumps. Rex shares a look with Fives, consisting mostly of conveying the fact that he should follow them as well, and moves to the edge. Cold wind pulls at his clothes. Far below him, he sees that Krell has landed perfectly on his feet and is now running towards the open forest outside of the compound. A short ways behind him, Obi-Wan has landed as well and is already giving chase, a speck of bright red hair marking him in the darkness.

Rex concentrates the Force around him in a protective cocoon, and jumps out of the open viewport. Wind whips past him, lights become a blur, and he lands softly, as if he’d simply taken a step.

He starts to run.

The walled area of the airfield gives way to the glowing forests of Umbara, and the sky quickly becomes shrouded by interlacing branches covered in iridescent growths. Rex can barely make out the light of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber ahead of him, and he can no longer see Krell. This means that when the Jedi Master falls atop him from the trees high above, Rex has no warning. 

Krell’s lightsabers come flying at him in a wave of neon death. Rex switches to a reverse grip and blocks them just before they would have bisected him. He jumps out of the way of the blue lightsaber, then the green, but with one free hand, Krell extends his palm forward, fingers splayed, and gathers the Force around Rex. It presses around him like a collapsing cave, and Rex is forced back, hard, into a nearby tree.

The trunk shakes and the thin limbs high above quiver as Rex is pushed closer and harder into the dark bark. He lets out a sound halfway between a yell and a cry. Krell steps closer, frowning at him.

“I’ve been waiting for this.  _ Die.” _

He brings both of his lightsabers together to form an x with the tips, an execution pose, but before he can utilize it a blaster bolts hits him in the shoulder. Krell reels back as more continue to fly toward them from behind distant trees. Past Krell, Rex can just barely make out the form of Fives.

With a roar, Krell releases Rex and turns to face Fives and other clones.

“You want to be first?!” He demands, voice shaking and half-crazed. “Very well!”

Krell lunges forward, but stops midair and falls heavily back to the earth. His muscles strain against the invisible force holding him back, and Rex looks to his right to find Obi-Wan standing beside the tree, his hand held out before him. He spares a glance at Rex, his blue eyes icey with concern and terrifyingly controlled anger.

“Are you all right?” he asks. 

“M’fine,” Rex answers, tightening his grip on his lightsaber as he steps away from the tree. His legs are wobbly, his muscles strained and weak, but he remains standing.

Obi-Wan nods and they both turn back to Krell, who had managed to force himself to his feet and now stands panting between the distant clone troopers and the Jedi. The back of his orange tunic over one shoulder smokes slightly and exhaustion emanates from him, but the fury has not left his face. If anything, he looks even more angry.

“It’s over, Pong,” Obi-Wan says diplomatically. “Give it up.”

Krell’s small eyes narrow, and he stalks forward. Blaster bolts continue to fire, but Krell continues, utterly unconcerned, until he’s less than a step from Obi-Wan.

“You won’t kill me. You can’t.” Krell stands glaring at them with fiery eyes. Obi-Wan sighs, lowers his hand, and raises his lightsaber.

“No I won’t, but it’s a pity that you couldn’t just listen,” Obi-Wan says as he relaxes into the beginning stance of Soresu. Rex does the same. “Now we’ll have to drag you to your trial.”

“Pity that you won’t survive to the see the sun again, Kenobi. You or your…” Krell bares his teeth at Rex as he spreads his feet apart and crouches down into the dangerous, precise angles of Vaapad. “Defect.” Without another word, he strikes.

The air around them heats up as lightsabers swing and clash and spark. Krell goes all out, and Rex can’t help but wonder if it’s because he knows he’s cornered or because he still has some foolish belief that he can kill them all. With Krell’s personality, it’s likely the latter. Yet as the fight goes on, Krell seems to start winning, little by little. Obi-Wan holds up a formidable defence, but Krell has greater size and strength on his side. His moves are careful, and deadly in their precision, and they all appear to be leading to one outcome: separating Obi-Wan from Rex.

By the time Rex realizes that, it's too late. Krell is suddenly between them both and a cruel look passes across his face as he looks down at Obi-Wan. Rex swings at him, pressing the Force into the attack, but Krell knocks them both away easily with a wave of the Force. Rex goes flying in one direction, Obi-Wan in the other.

Rex slams into the ground and his head spins. When he finally manages to stand back up, he sees that Krell has one large-knuckled hand around Obi-Wan’s throat, and has lifted him a few feet off of the ground. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber is nowhere to be seen, lost in the underbrush. Obi-Wan claws at the grey-green skin of Krell’s arm, choked gasping sounds escaping him as Krell squeezes.

Rex can’t breathe. He rushes forward, but Krell holds him back with nothing more than a single arm and lightsaber. Rex grinds his teeth together, and begs his heart to stop racing. He can’t marshal his concentration enough to access the Force. All he can do is sense the gentle ebb and flow of Obi-Wan’s life in the Force growing fainter and fainter. He rushes forward again, and Krell blocks him once more. With a desperate snarl, Rex unholsters his only blaster and fires, but Krell blocks the bolts easily with his lightsaber. Obi-Wan’s eyes begin to rolls back into his head, and his clawing subsides into soft thumps of his palms against Krell’s thick arms.

_ Concentrate. Concetrate.  _ Rex takes in a shuddering breath. “Fire!” he shouts at his distant brothers. “Fire at him, damn it!”

Krell glances casually over his shoulder.

“They fire, and I break your former Master’s neck.” To show that he was serious, he presses his fingers even harder around Obi-Wan’s throat. Rex can feel the pain along their bond as if it were his own, sharp and sudden.

_ Oh gods. Oh gods, no. _

“Don’t fire!” he shouts again, his voice cracking. “Don’t!”

“I know he ordered you not to kill me, and all clones can do is obey orders. I must stand trial.” Krell laughs at his words, and levels the point of his green lightsaber against Obi-Wan’s chest. “This is why you will fall, Jedi…”

It feels as if something cracks and falls away from Rex in that moment, something that he will never, ever get back. Time seems to speed up and slow down at once. Rex can feel his heartbeat in his throat, in his fingertips and head, and his vision blurs around the edges until the only thing left in focus is Krell’s hulking form and Obi-Wan dangling at the end of his arm.

Along their bond, Rex can hear Obi-Wan. His mental voice is faint, but most definitely there. It’s begging him, calling out to him, telling him to stop. He knows what Rex is about to do, and there is no turning back from it.

Rex moves forward, and this time when Krell attempts to push him back, it doesn’t work. Rex continues forward, step by step, until he’s close enough to touch. Before Krell can react, Rex brings his lightsaber up and slices the arm holding Obi-Wan off at the elbow. Smoke and steam come from the wound instead of blood, and flakes of charred flesh rain down to the ground like ash. Krell stumbles back, clutching at the stump as a scream erupts from his lips. It’s easy to block the useless flailing of his lightsabers; easy for Rex to get between him and Obi-Wan and raise his lightsaber high.

Behind him comes a series of coughs, followed by a dry, cracking voice.

“Rex, no--!”

Rex doesn’t hear the rest. He’s too busy burying his lightsaber hilt deep into Krell’s round throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Soresu and Vaapad are both lightsaber forms used by the Jedi. Soresu is Obi-Wan's go-to (you know the sideways peace sign one? Yep. Soresu) and highly defensive, Vaapad is only form that is meant to utilize how pissed off someone is to make them fight better.


	18. Execution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Sorry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kidding, I'm absolutely not sorry! 
> 
> Enjoy~

Killing Krell, as fantastic and right as it had felt at the time, does not come without consequences.

The Republic ultimately wins Umbara, and takes the planet forcefully into its fold. Yet the losses on both sides lead to no one considering it a victory. To most, it was just a bloody, unnecessary battle.

For Rex, it’s what gets him arrested.

He isn’t sure who told the Republic what really happened with Krell. It hadn’t been him, it hadn’t been Obi-Wan, and it hadn’t been his brothers. Perhaps the Jedi Council had needed an explanation for the Chancellor regarding why Krell had died due to a lightsaber when no lightsaber-wielding Separatists had been in the area; perhaps they were simply always being watched. Whatever it was, as Republic reinforcements began to land on Umbara, Rex was put into stun cuffs.

“What is this?” Obi-Wan asks, pushing himself between Rex and the Coruscanti guard. He hadn’t brought up Rex killing Krell. In fact, he’d hardly spoken to him since the fight had finished, but Rex had sensed no hostility or fear from him. He’d only felt a sharp, confused relief.

Now he felt fear, and the faint beginnings of anger.

“I’m sorry, sir,” The clone -- Fox -- says, looking from Obi-Wan to Rex as he does. “By order of the Supreme Chancellor, I’m to take Commander Rex into custody immediately regarding the murder of General Pong Krell.”

Obi-Wan’s bond flares up in temporary panic, and is quickly tampered down. “Then I’m going as well.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Fox repeats, slightly exasperated. “He has to come alone. He’s considered a danger to Jedi at this present time.”

“A danger--” In one of the few moments Rex had ever witnessed, Obi-Wan allows his anger to show fully. “Rex is not a danger, Commander. This is wholly unnecessary. You will remain here,  _ right _ here, while I contact the Council and --”

“Obi-Wan,” Rex cuts in, and Obi-Wan stops abruptly. “Let me go. I’ll be fine.”

“You could be court-martialed. They could send you to Kamino to be reconditioned,” Obi-Wan replies caustically. “They could deem you completely unfit for duty, and have you completely recycled. I don’t believe you understand the severity of this situation.”

“That won’t happen.” Rex can’t explain how, but he knows that he isn’t going to die. He knows something is about to change, something important, but this will not be the last time he sees Obi-Wan.

He also knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that if he remains here that things will turn out much, much worse. “I’ll see you on Coruscant, Master. Don’t worry.”

That only makes Obi-Wan look more worried, but he frowns and backs off with a short nod. 

“I’ll alert Anakin about what’s going on. He’ll meet up with you there,” Obi-Wan says. “You aren’t alone in this.”

Rex smiles, and behind Obi-Wan he can see Fives and the others gathered, watching them. “I know,” he says.

Fox presses lightly on Rex’s shoulder to move him onto their transport. The engine rumbles beneath them as they lift up off of the ground, and leave Umbara.

It’s early in the morning when they arrive on Coruscant, and after the darkness of Umbara the bright sunlight piercing the edge of the horizon blinds Rex when the ship's landing ramp slides open. He brings his hands up to shield his eyes as he’s led by a group of guards into a building.

He isn’t sure where he is exactly on the planet. He can’t see the Jedi Temple nor the Senate Dome, two of the only landmarks he knows on the Republic’s capital planet. Without them, he has no way to figure out where he is.

Once inside, his lightsaber is taken from him, and the stun cuffs tightened. Fox mutters a gruff apology as he locks them into place. Rex reassures his brother with a short reply.  “Orders are orders,” he says. "Not your fault."

Rex is led down a white hallway lined with fluorescent bars that buzz lightly, their blinding white glow evaporating any and all shadows. By the time Rex is led to his final destination -- a dark side room lit only by dull working lights -- he has to squint just to make out the outline of the person he’s been brought to.

The being is distinctly humanoid, shorter than Rex and slim. They have an air of authority about them as they lift one thin-wristed hand.

“His lightsaber,” a male voice says.

Fox hands the being Rex’s lightsaber, and it’s tucked into the folds of a cloak. After that, the hand waves itself in the air.

“Leave us,” the outline says, crisp and controlled.

Fox and the other guards behind Rex snap to attention. “Yes, sir,” they say in unison before turning on their heels and exiting the room. The slab of off-grey industrial metal serving as the door, slides closed behind them, but doesn’t lock.

Rex remains standing a few feet away from the door, his hands bound in front of him and his feet a shoulder’s width apart.

The form in front of him begins to take on distinct features as Rex’s eyes adjust. A receding hairline, white hair, a hooked nose, thin lips.

Rex doesn’t need to see the man fully to know who he is, however. Not anymore. As soon as he had spoken, Rex had known exactly who it was. The Supreme Chancellor’s voice echoes throughout the Republic, so distinct that no-one could fail to recognize it.

The Chancellor laces his bone-thin fingers together and offers Rex a smile that doesn’t reach his too-blue eyes.

“I suppose you’re wondering why you’ve been brought here,” the Chancellor says.

“I’ve been arrested for the murder of Pong Krell,” Rex replies. “I’m more curious as to why you’re here, sir.”

The Chancellor’s smile breaks open into a grin, small teeth catching the faint rays of electric light. Rex had seen that smile a million times over, on holoboards, on holovids, on everything imaginable. It was the reassuring smile of the leader of the Republic.

So why then did it suddenly fill him with such dread?

The Chancellor steps forward, and it’s only thanks to years of training that Rex doesn’t flinch when a hand is placed on his neck.

The Chancellor’s hand is corpse-cold, far colder than Rex would ever have expected a living human’s to be. It reminded him, faintly, of Obi-Wan, and the comparison sickened him to his very core. Where Obi-Wan’s hands were cool and comfortable, the Chancellor’s felt like the frigid touch of death. 

Change fills the air. The darkness of the room seems suddenly thicker, heavier, and what light remains is quashed beneath it. Rex can feel invisible fingers within the Force, expert and practiced, creeping along his connection to the Force and his mental shields. Pressing and prodding and invading, and the center of it, Palpatine stands smiling with his hand wrapped around Rex’s throat.

“I’ve been quite interested in you for a long time,” the Chancellor says, pulling his cold hand away as he circles Rex slowly, like an artist surveying a newly finished piece. “A clone with Force Sensitivity. Yes, you have been of a very particular interest to me. Particularly this latest endeavor of yours…”.

Palpatine comes to a stop in front of Rex after one full revolution. He’s small, wrinkled and weak on the surface, but his presence fills the air around them, making Rex feel like he’s shrinking.

_ Block your mind, shield your thoughts,  _ something inside him warns, but by the time he listens it’s already too late. He’s ensnared within those invisible fingers, peeled apart and held wide open for inspection.

_ “You killed a Jedi.”  _ Palpatine’s eyes appear to glow in the dim light of the room with a faint, sickly yellow color. He reaches up a hand and grasps at Rex’s chin with surprising strength, and strokes at it thoughtfully. “I must say I was most surprised by that.”

Rex’s jaw clenches and unclenches, but he can’t pull away.

“He was going to kill us,” he growls out. “It was self-defense.”

Palpatine tilts his head. “I’m sure it was. After the visions I helped Master Krell to witness, it was only a matter of time before he broke. A weak fool who knows the truth is still a weak fool nonetheless.”

A small breath escapes Rex’s throat. This is what the Force had been trying to warn him about. This was the shadow behind Krell. No doubt the shadow behind the entire Republic.

“ _ Oh, there’s no need for you to fear me. _ Tell me, Rex, did you kill Krell to protect you and the other clones, or you and Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

_ Obi-Wan. _

Don’t focus on him.

_ Obi-Wan. _

Images come unbidden to Rex’s mind: Obi-Wan, his face illuminated by the pale blue light of his lightsaber; Obi-Wan, smiling at him from across a table in Dex’s diner; Obi-Wan, his eyes wide and distraught, as Rex had killed Krell to protect him.

Palpatine inspects it all, one by one, and his clear contempt is so strong in the Force that it makes the hair on Rex’s arms stand on end. Palpatine sifts through his memories and feelings, his thoughts and worries of Obi-Wan like a reader flipping through the pages of the book, before ending with a snort.

When he looks at Rex again, his eyes are as yellow as pus, and a long-nailed thumb pulls at Rex’s bottom lip. The intimate touch sends a shiver through Rex. It was the same thing that Obi-Wan had done, the first time that he and Rex had kissed. He had more than a feeling that Palpatine was entirely aware of that.

“The foolish things one is willing to do for love,” Palpatine croons. “It shall be your downfall, and the Jedi’s.”

Palpatine moves his hand to Rex’s chin once more, and pulls him down until they are nearly eye level. Rex moves unwillingly, his movements jerky, but movements nonetheless. 

“It would be a waste to kill you now. I have a much better plan in mind.” Palpatine leans forward, and there is the faint stench of rot beneath the soap and clean smell of his expensive clothes. His voice is a hiss in Rex’s ear, and a thunder-boom in his head.

“Execute Order 66.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Probably a good time to jab a finger repeatedly at the happy ending tag. I promise, somehow, someway, that we're definitely heading towards that. I just decided the road there needed a few potholes. Filled with acid.


	19. Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex kidnaps the Chancellor. Or the Chancellor kidnaps Rex? Depends on where you're looking at it from, and how Sith yellow your eyes are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always been fascinated with exploring what Order 66 would have felt like from a clone's POV. I hope that fascination translated into an interesting read.
> 
> Enjoy~

A sudden wave of anxiety surges through Rex, to the point that he can feel himself shaking in the dark, empty room. His fingernails dig grooves into his palms, and the urge, the undeniable feeling, to _kill,_ to _protect_ himself, fills his every thought, lighting up every nerve in his body.

_Execute Order 66._

Rex opens one hand and presses it to his face, over his eyes. He doesn’t know how in the hells he knows what those words mean.

_Execute Order 66: Kill the Jedi._

He must do what he is ordered to do.

But...he _is_ a Jedi.

“Look at me.”

Palpatine’s unflustered voice doesn’t so much smother the roaring torrent of emotion in Rex’s head as amplify it. Rex’s ears ring with the words, and all he wants to do is turn away, leave this room, leave all of it behind. Yet he still finds himself obeying. He lowers his hand, and when Palpatine looks at his eyes, his smile widens to the point that it seems his face may crack in half from it.

“Most interesting,” The Chancellor says, his eyelids lowering as he flicks his gaze down the length of Rex, focusing on his clenched, shaking hand, and back up again. His smile never once leaves his face. “Most interesting indeed.”

Rex remains standing, silent and still, as Palpatine reaches into the sleeve of his dark cloak, and draws out a familiar-looking handle.

“Hold out your hand.”

Rex obeys, and Palpatine hands him back the lightsaber that had been taken from him on Umbara (touching the curved metal sends chills racing up Rex’s arm, and the words _Jedi weapon_ fill his mind, along with the ever-present undercurrent of _kill, kill, kill_ ) and folds Rex’s fingers around it. He pats the tops of Rex’s knuckles amicably, and says,

“Now, you have the honor of kidnapping me.”

Rex doesn’t understand what he means by that, this entire situation still feels utterly surreal, but his lips still move and his voice still forms the usual words.

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good. Get us out of here, and do make it look authentic.”

The next few moments pass by in a blur, reminding Rex of being shocked into silence on the battlefield by a passing ballistic.

He exits the room by pushing Palpatine ahead of him, and even goes so far as to slash his lightsaber through the Chancellor’s shoulder. The stench of burning flesh and charred cloth assaults Rex’s senses, and the Chancellor lets out a surprisingly convincing cry as he collides with the far wall of the hallway.

“What the hells?!” Fox shouts, tugging his blaster out of his thigh holster at the same time Rex throws him with back with the Force into the dark room he had just left. He hears a dull, hard thud when his brother collides with the wall, and he raises his hand in warning at the other guard, but Palpatine’s voice fills his ears.

 _“Kill him,”_ the Chancellor orders from his place against the wall, and Rex does.

As Rex slides his lightsaber out of his brother’s chestplate, there is a part of him, deep inside, that’s glad for the helmet. He can’t see his brother’s face, but what peace that gives him now won’t last forever.

He _killed_ him.

Rex feels a part of himself snap and break. 

His brother’s body crumples to the floor in a heap, and Rex looks back toward the doorway of the darkened room. He doesn’t see any movement inside. He stares a moment longer, and then turns back around and hoists Palpatine to his feet.

The wound in the Chancellor’s shoulder doesn’t seem to bother him. If anything, he appears to gain strength from it. His eyes land on the dead clone, completely disinterested as he steps carefully over the body.

“I don’t want any survivors,” he says pointedly. “Only the weak leave their enemies alive, and I don’t plan on making you weak.”

He looks down the hall as the tromping sound of boots echoes across the white walls of the hall.

“Clear me a path.”

And Rex obeys.

It isn’t long before Rex and Palpatine are stepping out into the morning sunlight of Coruscant. The sun hangs a little higher in the sky now, casting long, black shadows across the landing pad. Klaxon alarms continue to blare behind them, silenced as the door to the compound slides shut. The landing pad juts out into nothingness with a handful of transports on it.

Palpatine points to the one farthest down the pad, and sneers when one of Rex’s brothers appears from behind a nearby ship and begins to blast at them. Rex blocks the first bolt, sending it flying back where it came from. It hits his brother right in his center mass, and he staggers back. His foot meets air and he topples backwards off the edge of landing pad with a trailing scream.

Rex opens and closes his mouth with a shudder. His vision is swimming, but he isn’t allowed to stop. He _can’t._ Instead, he grabs Palpatine firmly by the arm and leads him toward the distant ship’s loading dock.

They’re two ships away from it when something else catches Rex’s attention. A voice, one he recognizes all too well. 

_“Rex!”_

Rex turns his head towards it, and finds Anakin Skywalker standing between two ships. General Skywalker moves out from between them, putting himself directly between Rex and the ship he had been heading towards. 

“Rex. What are you doing?” Skywalker demands, a frown between his brows.

Rex opens his mouth to respond, _to ask for help_ , but Palpatine quiets him with a soft _shhh._ Palpatine then lets out a plaintive shout, his voice shaking and terrified.

“Anakin, my boy!” he cries. “You must help me! Your friend, h-he’s gone rampant. He killed the other clones. _He means to kill me._ ”

Skywalker’s eyes move from Rex to Palpatine and back again, and he begins to step forward, one foot at a time. The closer he gets, the further from confusion and closer to protectiveness his look becomes. His boots ring out against the metal of the landing pad.

“I’ll get you out of this, Chancellor,” Skywalker says, his gaze never leaving Rex. “Rex, let the Chancellor go.” He continues, his tone just short of pleading. “I know what happened on Umbara. Obi-Wan told me. I can help you. We can fix this.”

Shaking, Rex de-ignites his lightsaber. Skywalker smiles at him, and edges ever closer.

A hand presses surreptitiously against Rex’s back. It’s Palpatine, urging him forward.

“He is a Jedi,” Palpatine says in a voice low enough that only Rex can hear it. “Follow your orders.”

The command echoes through Rex’s head, until it feels like the only sensible, logical thing to do. A strange, foreign fear courses through Rex, and the need to kill Skywalker - to eradicate this sudden, unexplainable anxiety - pushes him toward Skywalker.

He has to protect himself.

_Anakin is smiling at him._

He doesn’t want to _die._

_Anakin trusts him._

This is the only way. 

_Anakin is reaching for him._

The Jedi are dangerous. 

_They sent Anakin to kill him._

Follow your orders.

_Anakin is his friend._

He doesn't want to kill him.

_That’s what good soldiers do._

Skywalker is still smiling at him when Rex ignites his lightsaber and brings it swinging forward.


	20. Over the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Rex fight while Palpatine makes snide comments from the peanut gallery a la Statler and Waldorf from The Muppet Show, you know, minus the gross, unwanted mental connection he's forcibly created with Rex because he's a collector of rare, Force-imbued curiosities, and the only Force Sensitive clone in existence is about as rare and curious as they come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~

Skywalker ignites his own lightsaber and catches it against Rex’s own with barely a second to spare, but the force of Rex’s swing sends him dancing back a few feet to keep his balance.

Rex keeps pushing forward, pressing into the balls of his feet and leaning with the full weight of his upper body, but Skywalker holds them both firmly in place, his jaw clenching and beads of sweat beginning to dot his brow. He isn’t using his full strength--Rex has known him long enough that he can easily tell that Skywalker is holding back. Like this, they’re equally matched, neither of them gaining or losing ground.

The same thought keeps spinning round and round in Rex’s mind. He has to kill Skywalker. He has to. It’s the only way. He has to, he has to, _ he has to! _

He doesn’t realize at first that Skywalker is talking, that he  _ has  _ been talking since the moment they were caught in a bladelock.

“Rex, listen to me! You aren’t yourself. Something’s  _ wrong.  _ Stand down and let me  _ help _ ,” Skywalker growls, fear clouding his pale eyes.  _ “Please.” _

At some level, Rex knows that his words should have some affect him, but a strange kind of apathy has taken hold, turning him numb to them. He doesn’t understand why. It scares him.  _ Skywalker _ scares him.

Rex takes one hand off of his lightsaber, balls it into a fist, and punches Skywalker right below his left eye. He feels something shatter beneath his knuckles, and the blow sends Skywalker reeling back in surprise. Their lightsaber blades slide off and away from each other with a high-pitched shriek. Rex scrambles back, attempting to regroup himself, but Skywalker follows doggedly after him. Blood is dripping from his mouth and down his chin, and his left eye has a sunburst of red around the blue of his iris, making it eerily bright.

_ “Don’t make me hurt you, Rex!”  _ Skywalker snarls, cracks beginning to show in his usual Jedi calm.

Rex switches his lightsaber to a more defensive position as Skywalker is almost upon him, and dodges left. Skywalker quickly follows. Their blades clash again, but Rex doesn’t allow himself into another bladelock. He blocks and counters and parries each of Skywalker’s increasingly aggressive moves, taking longer and longer strides backwards the fiercer Skywalker’s blows become. He takes another of what seems to be countless retreating steps, and his foot lands on open air.

_ The  _ **_edge._ **

The sensation of falling grips his stomach and twists downwards, and Rex throws his arms out wide to try and regain his balance. It isn’t enough. Gravity tugs him down, and he begins to topple backwards off of the edge of the landing pad.

Or, he would have, if a hand clad in thick synthleather hadn’t grabbed the part of him where Jedi cloak met clone armor and held fast.

Skywalker steadies them both, but doesn’t pull Rex back onto the landing pad. His mechno-hand tightens in the dark cloth of Rex’s cloak. Cold, leather-clad fingers brush against his throat.

“Are. you.  _ done?” _ Skywalker demands, his words slow and angry.

Rex brings the hand that isn’t still clutching his lightsaber up and closes it around Skywalker’s wrist. He can feel the distinct curve of metal and the bumps of studs holding it together beneath Skywalker’s glove. His heart is pounding in his ears, and it takes every bit of strength and common sense that he has not to take his still-lit lightsaber and shove it through Skywalker’s chest, sending them both falling over the edge.

Skywalker shakes him a little, impatient for answer.

Rex locks his gaze with him, and the General flinches from the look, as if something about Rex’s eyes unsettles him.

“What the hells happened to you, Rex?” Skywalker asks, the anger in his tone giving way to concern. 

Rex swallows slowly, his tongue heavy and dry in his mouth. “You might as well drop me, sir,” he says, and those words succeed in bringing back Skywalker’s unnerved expression. To Rex’s surprise, his own voice is thick with emotion, as if he’s a moment away from crying. He swallows again and wonders, for the first time since his fight with Skywalker had started, where Palpatine had gone. It was if the Chancellor had melted into the very shadows of the spacecraft sitting idly around them, but Rex could still sense him somewhere close, could still sense his hold on him, like being caught in a gigantic and invisible web.

_ I have to warn Skywalker. _

“He did some-something to me. You... you aren’t safe here,” Rex says the words slowly, his mind rebelling against them. He realizes faintly that it isn’t his consciousness making it difficult to speak. It’s a foreign one, dark and sinister, pulling on nerve endings and thought patterns.

Skywalker’s expression softens just a bit. “He?” Skywalker asks. “Who’s he? Krell?”

“It’s--” Rex knows the name, he’s always known  _ his _ name, but it fades from his mind like sand sifting through his fingers. The harder he tries to remember it, the quicker it slips from his mind. Rex lets out a pained noise of frustration.

A dreadful thought creeps its way into his head, slowly gaining cohesion. Rex can tell it’s his own thought and not a suggestion from another, but that only makes it harder to say.

He does say it, though, loudly and desperately as he grips Skywalker’s arm.

“Kill me,” he pleads, as he feels his mind being bent and pulled to a foreign will. The words, his orders, come once more, whisper-faint.

_ Execute Order 66. _

Rex grabs at Skywalker even tighter. “Kill me before he makes me kill  _ you _ .”

That seems to be what finally tips the scales for Skywalker. With a bloody-mouthed scowl, he tugs Rex away from the open air and back onto the solid metal of the landing pad. 

“No offense, Rex,” Skywalker says as Rex regains his bearings. His limbs are tingling, and his center of balance is all off. “But you couldn’t win a fight against me.”

Skywalker smirks at him, and takes his hand away from Rex’s cloak to rest on his shoulder. He leans in close, his eyes flickering down to Rex’s lightsaber and back up to Rex’s face. Rex had yet to deactivate it. At this point, he wasn’t even sure that he  _ could. _

“Tell me who he is,” Skywalker says softly.

“I--can’t. He’s.” Rex waves at his head, his expression ragged. “He’s in here. I can’t tell you who he is. He won’t let me.”

Skywalker’s gaze sharpens in understanding. “Is he nearby?” he asks.

Rex nods once, his vision blurring momentarily with the movement. He doesn’t know how much longer he can go against his orders, and he doesn’t know what will happen if he sees Palpatine. (If, as if there was an if. Palpatine is here, somewhere. Waiting. Watching) again. Could he point him out to Skywalker?

Skywalker looks around them carefully, and then he does a very stupid thing. A very Skywalker thing: he takes his hands off of Rex’s shoulder, places his lightsaber on Rex’s belt, and steps away from him.

Rex is flabbergasted, and steps forward.  _ “What are you doing? I just said I could kill you!” _

Skywalker gives him a nonchalant look. “And I said that you couldn’t,” he replies.  “We’re going to find the Chancellor, get him to safety, and then I’m taking you to the Mind Healers back at the Temple. They can dismantle whatever construct is in your head.”

Rex is beginning to suspect he isn’t the only person with one of Palpatine’s constructs in his head. How could Skywalker be so  _ dense? _

“Sir--” Rex begins through gritted teeth, the hand around his still-lit lightsaber shaking, when Skywalker cuts him off.

“Don’t call me ‘sir’. Haven’t we been over this already?” Anakin lets out a sigh. “You can’t kill me because I know you  _ won’t _ kill me. You’re my friend, Rex, and I trust you.”’

Rex has never, in his short, bloody life, met someone as foolish or as brave as Anakin Skywalker. His hand is still shaking around his lightsaber hilt, but it doesn’t lift up. Rex doesn’t feel the urge to attack, and for one Force-blessed moment, he believes that Skywalker is right. He is stronger than this. Whatever  _ this  _ is.

Then from the shadow of the transport behind Skywalker, a small form emerges breaks away and creeps forward. Rex turns to it as it raises its hand, and Palpatine’s sinister smile greets him. His fingertips crackle with blue light. He raises his pale brows at Rex as the light arches from his finger in jagged stripes, and hit Skywalker square in the back.

Rex’s voice comes rushing back in one loud, roar. “ANAKIN!”

Skywalker’s body lights up from the impact of the lightning, and his skeleton is visible in the shattered light, arching forward at an unnatural angle as electricity courses through him.

Rex moves to attack to Palpatine, raising his lightsaber high, but the latter simply spares a glance at him and says, “Stop.” and Rex does. His muscles strain, tears spring to his eyes, sweat trickles over his scalp and down his neck, but he  _ does. _

Palpatine turns his gaze away from him, and continues to watch Skywalker in rapt, malicious fascination. Then, he promptly pivots his hand down and the lightning ceases.

Anakin’s skin and clothing smokes as his knees give out beneath him. He topples forward onto the smooth metal of the landing pad, the air around him reeking of ozone, and all Rex can do is stare.

Palpatine does so as well, for barely a moment before boredom sets in and he turns to Rex with a keen interest. He reaches a hand towards him, and Rex flinches as it plucks Skywalker’s lightsaber off of his belt. Palpatine turns it over once, twice, before tossing it over the edge of the landing pad down into the depths of Coruscant below.

He takes Rex’s lightsaber next, taking it from his shaking fingers as easily as one would pluck a flower from the ground. He gives that one even less of an appraisal before tossing it over the edge.

“You won’t be needing that where we’ll be going,” he says simply, before ordering him to commandeer one of the ships and get them off of Coruscant immediately.

Rex does as he’s told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing Palpatine so much, you guys, you don't even understand. He's such a dick but it's so much fun, but he's such a DICK. Like, yeah, okay, be extra and just toss those Jedi lightsabers over the edge of a landing pad on the uppermost tier of Coruscant, you unrepentant campy beauty. There was no reason for it but you were "Blegh, I'm EVIL" and I was like, "Yeah this is totally in character holy shit" and he was like "Blegh!" and I was like "Okay, stop, the chapter is over" and he was like "BLEGH!" and I'm gonna stop now, you probably get the idea.


	21. Logical Conclusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex learns the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Padawan Rex...
> 
> The Chancellor with Sith eyes.
> 
> Order 66.
> 
> A bloodbath.
> 
> Forced to fight Anakin Skywalker on the order of Sheev Palpatine, Rex does all he  
> can to fight against this strange, terrible urge to do as he's told, but nothing is able to  
> stop him from falling into a duel with one of his oldest friends. All seems lost, until  
> Anakin throws down his lightsaber and Palpatine throws down some zappy-zaps on  
> the unaware Jedi Knight.
> 
> Now forced to steal a ship, and reeling from what he has just done, Rex flies off into  
> space with Palpatine at his side. To where? Only the future knows.
> 
> ***
> 
> ~Enjoy

As soon as they break free of Coruscant’s gravity well, Palpatine wastes no time in giving Rex a set of coordinates to put into the ship’s navicomputer. Rex recognizes the region of space immediately: a place set deep within Separatist territory. The starferry he’s flying is sturdy enough, but has no combat armaments to speak of, and the hyperdrive had seen better days. Better decades, even. Their subspace signature is also still clearly Republic as well. They’ll be blown into spacedust the moment they come out of hyperspace, he just knows it.

He hesitates just long enough for Palpatine to drawl out in an irritated hiss, “Take us into hyperspace.”

Rex does, and the ship shudders and rumbles all around them before the stars outside the viewports melt into lines of light and pull them forward.

Rex remains rigid in the pilot’s seat while Palpatine begins to input commands into the dashboard console. The chancellor does it with the precision and assurance of someone with extensive knowledge of what they’re doing, and how little Rex truly knows about the Chancellor settles over his thoughts like veneer.

The transmission array button lights up with a faint green light, and moments later a miniature, kneeling form coalesces into existence.

“My master,” it says in greeting. It’s a voice that Rex recognizes. Though he’s never had the chance to fight the Count personally like Obi-Wan or General Skywalker, Rex has seen enough archived clips of the man to know his distinct, glaringly snobbish Coruscanti tone.

“There has been a change of plans,” Palpatine says to the still kneeling hologram. “I will soon be arriving on Serenno, and I’m bringing you a gift.”

_ Serenno.  _ Rex feels a twinge in the force at the word, but before he can explore it further it’s gone.  _ He’s being taken there? Why? _

Dooku’s hologram stands slowly, and he tilts his head slightly. 

“A gift, my lord?” he asks, with enough weariness that both Rex and Palpatine catch onto it. 

“Yes, something I believe you’ll find most... entertaining, Lord Tyrannus,” Palpatine responds languidly, a smile spreading over his mouth. “I’m bringing you Obi-Wan Kenobi’s apprentice. Personally.”

There is a long, pregnant pause. Rex expects Count Dooku to question Palpatine further, or to at the very least say something, but the Count only raises one dark eyebrow (a very Obi-Wan facial tic), and bows his head until his chin nearly touches his chest.

“Thank you, my lord. I shall await your arrival.”

Without another word, Palpatine disconnects the link. Dooku’s blue form disappears into thin air, and the cockpit fills with an even worse silence than it had before. Rex can feel Palpatine’s eyes on him like prey feels the eyes of a hunter, but he refuses to look up to meet the gaze. He can feel Palpatine plucking at parts of his mind without his consent, digging into parts not even Rex liked to go into, casually like it was a stroll through a park. He feels his anger rising, and it takes all of his training to quash it.

That doesn’t seem to please the Sith.

“A weakling. Unsurprising,” Palpatine intones. “It will take a dedicated amount of time, but I’m sure we can train all of Kenobi’s frivolous lessons out of--”

Rex doesn’t wait for him to finish. The moment Obi-Wan’s name had slipped past his vile lips, it was as if a wall inside him had broken apart. Fury floods through him, and he stands up quickly and grabs at Palpatine’s neck. He lifts the smaller man out of his seat with ease, the muscles of Palpatine’s throat tightening and twitching beneath Rex’s palm. When he squeezes, Rex can feel a pervading cold emanating from Palpatine’s skin even through the material of his glove. It's like handling a corpse.

He slams Palpatine into a nearby wall of electronic read-outs and star charts. The monitors fritz and crackle from how hard he does it.

“Shut up!” Rex snarled through gritted teeth.

Palpatine’s grins at him. “Very good! You learn quickly!”

Rex’s nostrils flare, and it’s only then that he hears Palpatine’s disembodied voice in his mind, urging him to violence. He starts to loosen his grip, guilt consuming him as he remembers what he’d done to General Skywalker, to all of his brothers back in that facility on Coruscant.  _ All because of  _ **_him…_ **

Rex jerks his arm back and rams Palpatine into the wall a second time. A monitor behind him cracks and goes black when the back of the Chancellor’s head collides with it, yet still he’s all smiles. His eyes are two golden coins in his head, shining and cold.

“What the hells did you do to me?!” Rex demands, pushing against Palpatine’s influence and failing. His anger flares.

Palpatine widens his eyes at Rex, until the irises are in the center of a pool of white.

“Simply what you were created to do.”

“I was created to save the Republic,” Rex snaps, “and end this war.” 

“You were created to serve me.”

Rex tightens his hand, twisting until he hears Palpatine let out a choke. “I’m going to kill you," Rex growls.

Rex balls his free hand into a fist, his fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his palm, and pulls it back to collide with Palpatine’s still-smiling face.

But…

He can’t do it. No matter how badly he wants to, or how badly Palpatine makes him think he wants to, he can’t will himself to strike the man down. He hears Obi-Wan’s voice in the back of his mind in a place where Palpatine can’t go, urging him to peace.v  Telling Rex that he loves him too much to watch him fall.

His fist shakes in the air, vibrating like the bowels of the ship they had stolen.

No. That  _ he _ had stolen, because Palpatine had told him to. Because Palpatine could control him.

_ Feelings are secondary in times of crisis. Use logic, my love,  _ the Obi-Wan in his head urges.

Rex’s hand slowly relaxes, fingers splaying open one at a time.

“What is Order 66?” Rex finds himself asking. It’s familiar yet somehow not, like faces seen in a dream. He knew it, but he also didn’t. It was as if it was hardwired into his brain.

Realization clicks like a trigger. “It was you,” Rex says. “You had the Kaminoans create us. You...” He remembers, vaguely, what Obi-Wan had told him about his discoveries about Kamino. How it had all begun when a former Jedi Master named Sifo-Dyas had been driven mad by inexplicable visions. “You gave Master Sifo-Dyas his visions of the future?”

Palpatine’s face betrays nothing, and he’s no longer smiling. In fact, he looks almost bored.

Rex’s brows twitch together, a niggling feeling of something more pulling at this mystery like a pet on a leash. Palpatine had created the clone army, putting something within Rex and his brothers to allow him full control on a whim, but what about Dooku? The leader of the Separatists, listening to the orders of his enemy?

Rex swears he hears the sound of Obi-Wan stroking at his beard thoughtfully.

“You created the droid army, too,” Rex finally says, the horror of it making the words come out slowly.

He doesn’t want that to be true. This war, his purpose, his whole reason for being alive, it can’t all be the game of some monster. But the moment he says it, Palpatine’s smile returns, mouth and eyes wide and bright. Yet he doesn’t say a thing. 

He’s waiting for Rex to finish.

He’s waiting for the truth to break him.

Rex’s voice is no longer angry. It seems to have lost all emotion, as if this were all something he’d memorized long ago. Perhaps he had, and simply been made to forget.

“You started this entire war,” he says.


End file.
